Like Father, Like Daughter
by skullchildforever
Summary: All Rose ever wanted was the truth about her father, well no one ever told her that the truth will just hurt. Or make you go completely insane. Rated T for language. Diclaimer: this is my own version. I am not basing it completely off the comics. So all you Batman extremists please don't start freaking out if some things are different or it's not what you expected.
1. Chapter 1

**Okay so this is a re-upload of my fanfic Like Father, Like Daughter. The brat I was baby sitting decided it would be funny to delete the story. Like I said, he's a BRAT.**

**Anyway, before I re-uploaded this story, I decided to read and go over the whole thing. And with that, I decided to change a couple of things (including adding a character, which lead to another chapter). So this story is a little different from the original upload.**

Screaming. That's all I could hear was screaming. Right in my fucking ears.

Damn fangirls, I thought, trying to shove my way through the crowd of people that had gathered all through out the streets of Gotham. They did this every weekend night. Every single Friday and Saturday night they felt it was necessary to crowd the streets with their cameras and cell phones, ready to try and snap a quick picture of the oh-so-great Batman.

What was so special about him anyway? He just was a guy who was obviously loaded and decided to parade around Gotham, saving people every now and then. He was obviously a fame whore.

Though I have to admit I was jealous of that utility belt. I would love to get my hands on all the different gadgets he carried.

Anyway, I was still trying to navigate my way through the screaming sea of fangirls to reach the steps of the small apartment me and mom lived in. I was just several feet away from the steps, when I felt a strong hand grab hold of my shoulder.

More aggravated than scared, I turned my head to see a crazy homeless man saying, "Spare any change miss?" He squinted his beady eyes, like I reminded him of someone.

Apparently I did.

"No, sorry buddy," I said, trying to pull away, but his iron grip was still holding me in place.

"You…," he muttered. "What's your name, girl?"

"My name is 'let me the fuck go'. Now let me the fuck go, old man."

His eyes widened. A smile spread across his face. "It _is_ you," he said.

Raising an eyebrow, I said, "And who am I?"

"You're…_his_ daughter. You have his eyes, girl, they're so green, so full of hysteria and rage…Now, what is your name?"

Hoping he would let go if I told him my name, I said, "It's Rose. Rose Quinzel."

"Quinzel?" The homeless man smiled, showing several teeth were missing. I grimaced at the sight. "That's a name I haven't heard in a while, kid." He released my arm, convinced I wasn't going to run. He was right. "So you're Harleen's kid, eh? I'm not surprised. You look a lot like her. You even have that head of blonde hair that I hated so much. It's too bright, too clean."

This guy was getting a little creepy.

Crossing my arms, ignoring his stalker-like comments, I asked, "How do you know my mother?"

He threw back his head and laughed. "Me and Harleen have known each other for years kid." I was about to walk away from this guy. He was probably just making it all up. Then again he did know mom's name… "And I also knew your father. You look a lot like him too."

I snapped out of my thoughts; he had my full undivided attention.

Smiling again, he said, "I thought that might get your attention, kid."

"M-my father?" I stuttered.

I had never met dad. Mom always said that he had died when I was just a baby, but for some reason I always suspected he was still alive somewhere. Call me crazy. But I had always wanted to know who my father was. Every time I tried to ask mom about him, she just started laughing hysterically, and say something like, "Nothing for you to worry about, cupcake." I hated it when she called me that.

"Yes, I knew your father very well kid." The gigantic smile vanished, replaced by a cold, hard line of a mouth. "I used to work for him."

"What did my father do?" I asked. This stranger was the only hope I had of finding out something about my father. I had to know anything and everything I could get out of him.

Shaking a dirty finger in my face, he said, "If you take me to your mother, I just might answer your questions."

Ignore what I said earlier. My mother's safety was more important than knowing a few things about a father I had never even known. "What do you want with mom?" I asked, trying to look cold and demanding. I was usually good at it, but apparently my petty death glares weren't enough to make this guy even budge.

He laughed again. "Please kid," he said. "That was pretty intimidating. But that was mere child's play compared to what your father would do."

"And what would my father do?" I asked through gritted teeth.

Pretending to be thinking of a fond memory, he said, "Oh, bathe us in acid, kill us with these sharp playing cards of his, and he had this laughing gas…" he stopped. "And I'll tell you the rest if you take me to that whore you call your mother."

I raised a fist, ready to knock his lights out, when I felt yet another hand, this one softer and not nearly as rough, grab me, holding my eager fist back.

I looked back, but already knew who it was. I smiled at the woman standing behind me. "Aunt Pam," I said.

Pam wasn't really my aunt, she had just been my mother's best friend for years, but had helped raise me like I was her own flesh and blood. She was beautiful, with long auburn hair, and grass green eyes that were far prettier than any part of nature.

Smiling at me as if she wasn't holding back my fist from punching someone, she said, "Rosemary Quinzel, just what the hell do you think your doing?" Trusting me, she let go of my fist.

I gave her the wide, crazy smile I had always had since I was a baby, and said, "Oh nothing. Just making new friends is all. Well, he claims to be an old friend of mom's…and of apparently he used to work for dad." Her expression changed from a concerned motherly type, to one of pure hatred and disgust.

Scary.

She aimed her glare at the homeless guy and said, "I think it's time for you to leave _right now_."

The guy suddenly went from a big bad, tough guy, to a marshmallow in three seconds flat. I had always tried to model my death stare after Pam's, but I had never been successful. She was a natural, I was a copycat. Life just worked that way I guess.

He just stood there, staring in horror at Pam, and finally turned around and ran in the opposite direction, shoving several fangirls to the ground in the process. I couldn't help but smile at that sight.

I raised a fist and started shaking it like some old person yelling at kid. "And don't ever come back around here again!" I yelled after him, though he probably couldn't hear me through the still screaming crowd of fangirls.

Her expression softening, Pam said, "Come on, let's get inside. It's freezing out here."

"Whatever you say." She always said it was freezing. Maybe she was naturally cold…like her heart.

Walking inside, I felt the instant relief I always did when entering the apartment. This place could always soothe me, calming me down. It was small but very comfortable and it had served as my home since I could remember.

We went into the kitchen, Pam sitting down at the table as I reached into the fridge for a Mountain Dew. Popping open the can and sitting across from Pam, I took a sip and said, "So how come you guys never told me that I have dad's eyes?"

Snapping her head up from looking at the potted plant on the windowsill, she said, "Who told you that?"

Taking another sip, I burped loudly, then said, "Crazy homeless dude who apparently knows you guys. And he said something about working for dad. What exactly did dad do for a living?"

"You really shouldn't believe everything, let alone anything you hear from a random stranger that you've known a full ten minutes, Rose. What would your mother say?"

"Well mom won't be back from the hospital until after eleven, so I don't know."

Sighing, Pam said, "Please don't be smart, Rose." She suddenly looked worn and tired, her eyes not quite full of the energy she usually carried. "If you want to know something about your father I'll tell you this; you act just like a female version of him, though not nearly as crazy."

Tilting my head to the side, I said, "What do you mean? Was he a nut-case or something? And how do I look like him?"

Looking me right in the eyes, Pam said, "You're dad…wasn't exactly right in the head, Rose. And I have to ask. Why the sudden interest in your father? You've never asked so many questions about him at once"

Irritated, I said, "It's not a sudden interest. I've wanted to know just a little something about dad since I was just a tiny kid. Every father's day, I would wonder, 'what was daddy like?' or 'why isn't daddy around anymore?' And every time I try asking anything that has to do with him, mom will just laugh it off or you'll try to evade the question. Like you are now. Is it too much to ask to know just _something _other than the eye color of the very man who helped bring me into this world?"

Sighing once more, she started rubbing her temples. With every second, it seemed her bright green eyes grew dimmer, like a plant dying during the winter.

I suddenly felt a little bad.

But not enough to stop asking questions.

"Okay, I'll tell you just _little_ about your father. Just a little. And you can not tell your mother that I even spoke of him with you, got it?" I nodded. "So what do you want to know?"

"How am I like him? Other than the fact that I have his eyes."

Smiling, she said, "Yes, you have your father's 'crazy green eyes', as your mother would describe them. And your rather…creative like he was."

Lifting an eyebrow, I asked, "What do you mean by creative?"

"Your father was rather…well I can only describe it to you as creative. And funny. He would come up with some of the wackiest ways to murd-" She stopped. "I-I mean, make people laugh. He was good at making people laugh." She gave me a nervous smile.

What had she stopped herself from saying? Call me crazy but it sounded like she was going to say…_murder_?

No way. I must be going insane.

"Anything else you want to know?" She asked, breaking me from my thoughts.

There was something that had always puzzled me. "Why are there no pictures of dad? And no possessions of his? Usually when someone dies, their families will keep their stuff. Or most of it anyway. But the only thing I have of his is the harlequin doll he gave me for my first birthday." I took a long drink of my soda, aggravated that I had to ask such simple questions anyone else would know about their dads.

"That's… that's kind of a difficult story, Rose." She moved her eyes around the room, obviously trying not to meet my gaze.

Giving up on the whole conversation, I shrugged. "I figured you wouldn't answer more than a few questions." Getting up from the table, I walked out of the kitchen, calling, "Good night," over my shoulder.

Pam didn't try to stop me as I walked up the narrow flight of stairs. I was determined not to start crying, at least not until I was in the true sanctuary of my room.

I flung open my door, careful not to slam it behind me as I threw myself onto my bed. I couldn't help it. The tears just started streaming from my eyes like someone had turned on a faucet. Why wouldn't anyone tell me anything about dad? And telling me about his eyes and sense of humor did _not_ count.

You never heard mom speak fondly of any memories she might have had of him. Though she obviously thought of them. I would always catch her day dreaming, and sometimes she would mutter in her sleep about him…

I just wanted to know something important and … I don't know, _interesting_ about my father. But no. I couldn't know anything important about dad. I couldn't even see a picture of him or know what he did for a living! Hell, they had never even told me his _name_! His name for the love of god!

Suddenly, I heard a maniacal laugh, high pitched and echoing through my room. I looked over at the shelf from where it had come from. It was the plush harlequin doll dad had given me when I was just a baby. Sometimes, for some unknown reason, it would start laughing on its own without having the string in its back pulled. I smiled a little bit, comforted by the high pitched, mad laugh, it reminded me of my own laugh a little. Any other kid would have been creeped out by it. But not me. I had always liked the weird things since I was small.

Hell my favorite toy when I was three was a book of matches. And then I discovered lighters at the age of six. I acted sane most of the time, but I had these weird little quirks that had always separated me from all the other kids. I had heard some call me "scary and crazy" once. But whatever. It just came natural I guess.

This tiny doll that was my favorite and only thing I had that could at least let me know that dad had been around at some point. I just couldn't remember that point in my life. And the little harlequin had always comforted me when I was sad. I could just look at its hysterical expression and instantly be soothed.

Like now. The tears stopped flowing and suddenly it seemed easier to breathe.

Wiping my eyes, and probably smudging the think line of charcoal eyeliner I had put on that morning, I walked to the doll on the shelf. I just stared at it. Wondering what life might have been like if dad hadn't died. Of course though, I had always had these weird conspiracy-like theories that he was still alive out there. But mom and Pam had assured me on more than several occasions that dad was dead and gone. End of story, goodbye, the end.

Sighing heavily, I changed into my pajamas even though it was still only eight and plopped down on the bed, grabbing a random book from one of the random piles that littered my floor. Looking at the title, I sighed again. _Long Hard Road Out of Hell_ by Marilyn Manson.

Coincidence? I think not!

**So for those of you who read it before, what do you think? Is it better? The same? Worse? I'll appreciate any praise or constructive criticism. That's part of writing stories after all.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I am not encouraging smoking, it is a disgusting habit and I myself cannot stand the smell of any kind of smoke. I just thought it fit with Rose's personality a little.**

You would think that going to Starbucks for your usual cup of black coffee and going to buy a pack of cigarettes would be a simple and easy task.

Nope.

So here's the deal, I was walking to Starbucks, a fresh pack of cigarettes in my hand (mom and Pam don't know that I smoke, so you better not tell!), when this random guy from my school walks up to me.

"Hey, you're Rose, right? Rose Quinzel?"

I looked at the guy. My age, tall (really tall), dark eyes, dark hair, and a more than confident look on his face.

Damian Wayne.

Sighing, I said, "What do you want, Damian?"

"Well, I was wondering-?"

"No."

"You don't even know what I going to say!"

"Yes I do and the answer is no." I pulled out of cigarette and lit it, knowing he hated cigarettes and hoping it would drive him away.

We reached the door to Starbucks, and before I could reach for the handle, he pushed the door open for me. Rolling me eyes as I walked in, I said, "What a gentlemen. No."

"How do you know what I was going to ask?"

He followed me all the way up to the counter, where Lizzy, my usual coffee girl, was standing. She smiled and said, "Usual?" As I shook my head, she noticed Damian next to me. "Oh boy. You're gonna need the special?"

I nodded my head. "Extra large and extra syrup. Oh, and add a chocolate old-fashioned doughnut."

"Damn," she muttered, punching in the order. "He been bothering you all morning?"

"No, he just now showed up. I'm just in a _really_ pissed off mood, and don't feel like dealing with this retard. So my special is just what I need right now."

"You got it."

As she went gave the order to the brewer behind her, I moved down to the pick-up counter, trying to ditch Damian. Why did the pick-up counter have to be so close?

He easily followed me. "Answer my question, Rose. How do you know what I was going to ask you?"

Ready to scream in his face, but somehow holding back the urge, I said, "Because you ask me the same damn question every time you talk to me. And the answer is still no!"

His confident expression fell a little. Good. "What would _one_ date hurt, Rose?"

I turned around to face him, glaring right into his eyes. "It's not that it would _hurt_. I am _beyond_ the point of hurting. It's that I am just not interested, Damian!"

He smiled, trying to act flirty. He was good at that. "How can you resist this face?" He gave me puppy eyes. Oh god, not puppy eyes.

"Easy. No. Why do you constantly pursue me? I have been declining you since the eighth grade! This is our senior year for the love of god! Give it up already!"

My order finally came. My mouth instantly started watering. Grabbing my order, I moved to a table in the corner and flicked my cigarette out the window.

And of course Damian just had to follow me like a lost puppy.

Sitting across from me, he said, "I'm impressed. All those calories and you still have such a beautiful body."

"You're asking to be punched."

"From you? It would be worth it."

Sipping my Peppermint Mocha, I leaned forward, giving him my best death glare and hoping it would work better on him than it did the homeless guy. "Need I remind you of what happened to Billy Wilson after he decided it would be a good idea to slap my ass?"

A little put off by my glare, but still intent on annoying me, he said, "Yep. But that guy deserved it. Have I ever touched you without permission?"

Taking a bite of my doughnut, savoring the chocolate flavor, I said, "You tried to hug me that one time in biology when we dissected those frogs."

"Oh come on, that was ninth grade, Rose. And besides, you got your revenge when you almost shoved our frog down my throat."

"You called him Damian junior and said he was our child!"

"If it makes you feel any better, you were prettier than him." He gave me that goofy grin he always wore when he tried to impress me. Damn him.

I pulled out my pack of cigarettes, not caring if Starbucks was smoking-free. I was about to grab one out of the pack, when Damian snatched them from my hands.

"Hey! Give them back!" I called.

Holding the cigarettes, just out of my reach, he said, "Shame, shame, Rose. You know smoking is a terrible habit."

"Do I look like I care?"

"You should. I don't want that beautiful face of yours to weather down, and at such a young age!"

"I've been smoking since the tenth grade."

"I know, and I've always tried to make you stop. What if your mother or aunt knew?"

"Go ahead and tell them! It's not like they can stop me from buying them. I'm eighteen."

He put the pack in his jacket pocket. "Yes, but imagine the look of disappointment on their faces."

"Like they would care."

"Oh, they would, Rose. They would. They care about you more than you realize."

My eyes narrowed to slits. "And just what do you know about me or my _family_?"

"Enough to know that they love you and care about your health."

I rubbed my temples, mimicking what Pam had done the night before. "Are we really having this conversation?"

"Yes. Now if you decide to stop smoking, let me know! And I will buy you the nicotine gum myself. Or the patches, or whatever you want."

"I want my cigarettes!"

"You know in England, they call them fags?"

I kicked him under the table. As he fought the urge to rub his hopefully bruised leg, I said, "You are driving me _mad_."

He looked at me, very serious all of a sudden. "How mad, exactly?"

"Mad enough I think I could chop your head off! Or some other part of your body."

"Yikes. That wouldn't be good. What would we do on our future honeymoon? Play checkers?"

I glared at him again, somewhat calming down. "We are _not_ getting married."

"Not until we graduate college together."

"I'm not going to college anywhere you would like to go."

"I don't care. I'll follow you anywhere, Rose. Just name the place, and I'll be there next to you."

Talk about cheesy. "Okay. How about under the water near that old bridge? You go there and hold your head under the water and I'll watch until the bubbles stop."

"If that's what you want."

I almost yelled in frustration. "You're impossible."

"That's why you love me so much."

"I love no one except my mother and aunt."

He gave me a smile. I have to admit it was kind of sweet. "For now, Rose. You just won't admit you're in love with me."

"Who would love a spoiled billionaire's brat like you?"

He looked a little irritated. "Just because my father is Bruce Wayne does not mean I'm spoiled."

"Oh please," I said, rolling my eyes. "You've never had to worry about helping pay bills or have to keep up your grades so you can get into a good college, so you can get a real job and make real money so you won't ever have to worry about your family going to bed hungry."

"And you help pay bills?"

"Yes I do." How dare this jerk question my dedication to helping my family get by? "I've been working as a waitress at that old diner downtown since I was fifteen. You don't know what it's like to go to bed with an empty stomach. You don't know what it's like to have to work for every little scrap that's worth anything in your life. It's all just been given to you, Damian."

He wasn't sure what to say. Good. He was finally speechless.

For a while.

He reached his hand across the table, trying to comfort me. My first instinct was to pull back, but I waited, curious on what he had to say.

"I'm sorry," he finally answered. That's it? Saying sorry will make it all better? And he must have seen my look of disgust on my face, because he quickly continued. "I didn't know that you had struggled like that, Rose. But I thought your mom made good money working at Arkham Asylum. I'm really sorry if I offended you."

He…how did he know that my mom worked for Arkham?

"No," I said, my words quiet and drained. "My mom is a psychiatrist there. But they've never paid her very well. I don't know why. She does just as much work there as anyone else. And I have a question." He perked up a little. I almost felt sorry for him. Almost. "How did you know my mom worked at Arkham?"

"Well," his eyes dropped a little, like he was embarrassed. "I remembered when we were in elementary school, and we had to draw pictures of what our parents did for a living on career day. That was fourth or fifth grade I think."

"Fourth," I said, unbelieving that he remembered something from so long ago. "You've liked me since then?" I blurted, immediately regretting the words.

He smiled again. "Since the first day of third grade."

I laughed a little. "God I remember our teacher, Miss Roual. Talk about a bipolar bitch."

He laughed too. "Yeah. She was scary, always threatening to beat us with the rulers." He stopped for a second, thinking. "Wasn't she fired a couple years ago for stabbing some poor kid?"

I nodded, finishing the last of my mocha. "Yeah, she stabbed the poor boy in the shoulder with scissors. Crazy bitch." I crumpled up my trash and got up, ready to leave.

"Leaving so soon?" He asked, following me to the trash can.

"Yeah, I need to leave, other wise I'll be late for work."

"Oh," he said, remembering what we talked about earlier.

Then he did something that I just about killed him for.

He said goodbye to me, then he quickly kissed me on the mouth!

"Damn it, Damian!" I yelled at him as he ran from me down the street. I thought about running after him and kicking his ass, but when I glanced at a nearby clock, I said, "Hell! I'm going to be late!" And started running.

**Okay, so yeah. Kind of a love interest for Rose, but I'm not sure if I will keep it up. Probably not. But leave me a review and tell me what you think!**


	3. Chapter 3

"Miss Quinzel? Miss Quinzel, are you paying attention?" My history teacher, Mister Landers, asked me.

Barely glancing up from the doodles I had been working on, I said, "You bet I am." And went back to coloring in the burning building I had drawn. Walking to my desk from the board, he snatched up my notebook. "Hey! What the hell?" I yelled.

Ignoring my question he observed my notebook, saying, "Yes I can see how much you've been paying attention, Miss Quinzel. But you know, I don't ever recall teaching of a fire breathing monster or of a …" he pointed at the picture of the burning building, and asked, "What is this?"

Trying to snatch back my notebook, I said, "It's a drawing of what I would _love_ to do to this class." Finally getting my notebook back, I tucked it into my bag, thankful he hadn't gone through any of the other pages. Waving my hand, I said, "Continue."

Rolling his eyes, Landers walked back to the board and continued his lesson.

"Now, since I have permission from the almighty Rose Quinzel, I have a very important lesson today that is not aloud for anyone under the age of eighteen."

That sure got everyone's attention. Talk about random.

Sensing everyone's confusion, Landers said, "Before I get into the lesson, I want you all to know that the fine print on your student contracts at the beginning of the year said that you agreed you would not speak of this lesson with or in front of anyone under the ago of seventeen. So if you break that rule, you will be expelled until next year, meaning you will have to repeat the twelfth grade."

Wow, must be pretty important.

"Now as you all know, we have a protector of our city of Gotham, Batman. Because of him, Gotham has been at peace for a very long time. Few crimes have happened, hardly any villains have emerged since his capture and execution of the Joker seventeen years ago." He paused, as if trying to build suspense. "Now you all must be wondering who this Joker fellow is." He paused once more.

Just get on with it already, I thought.

"The Joker is considered to be the most insane and highly dangerous foe of our beloved Batman. He was. Now it is required to be taught to everyone in Gotham, who is at the very least eighteen, about the previous villains. Because it is believed that there is a possibility of one of these villains emerging once more and trying to wreck havoc on Gotham." Suddenly, he looked directly at me.

What the hell, I thought.

"As you might have guessed, the Joker is the one we will be learning about first." He turned on the projector of the Promethium board and up popped a picture of a man. "This is a picture of the Joker."

I felt my breath suck in. While everyone else was laughing or making jokes about his appearance, I just sat there, staring at the screen.

The Joker…his grin, it was so familiar. And his eyes…his eyes were green. He wore a pair of black and white striped pants and a purple jacket. He appeared to be holding a joker card from a deck of playing cards.

No, I thought. It couldn't be.

And he was…killed seventeen years ago. I'm eighteen now and mom had always said dad had died when I was only one.

I could distantly hear Landers continuing with his lesson. "He even had this certain line he would say a lot. 'Why so serious?' he would ask his victims." I couldn't pay attention.

My eyes were growing wide, so wide.

No, no, no, no, NO!

I was snapped from my thoughts by someone tapping on my shoulder. I turned my head to see Damian handing me a note.

Irritated, I snatched the note from him. It read: _His eyes remind me of yours._

He saw it too?

I wrote back: _weird._

And I ignored any other attempt he made to pass me another note. I couldn't stop my mind from rushing. Rushing, rushing, running, running…!

Suddenly, something Landers said caught my attention once more. "And the Joker did not work alone." I snapped my head up. "He had a number of convicted felons working for him. But there was one person in particular he almost always had at his side." He pressed the board to move on to the next picture…of mom.

Only she was dressed in this weird black and red outfit…it reminded me of a harlequin.

"This once young woman was Harley Quinn, his girlfriend and main henchwoman." I put a hand to my mouth, refusing a cry of panic to be let out.

I gulped hard and looked at the clock above the door. Only eleven more minutes, I thought.

Tuning back into the lesson, I heard Landers say, "Harley Quinn was captured about seventeen years ago and after only a while at Arkham Asylum, she was released. Her lover the Joker, however, was not so lucky. He was scheduled to be executed soon after Harley Quinn's release. But she was still madly in love with him, though he had betrayed her before. She sued Arkham and managed to delay his execution for almost two years before he was finally executed." Then, looking right at me again, he said, "Some say that Harley had his child. Though those were only rumors of course."

Finally, the bell rang, signaling the end of class. While everyone asked if we would continue the lesson tomorrow, I jumped out of my seat and headed for the door. "Wait Miss Quinzel, I need to talk to you." I heard Landers call to me.

I stopped. He must have known, I thought. He must have.

I turned back around to face him, not expecting the concerned look in his eyes.

"Are you coming, Rose?" I heard Damian ask.

He acted as if we were suddenly boyfriend and girlfriend. Idiot

"I'll be there in a second," I called to him, wanting him to disappear.

When everyone else was out of the class, I said rounded on Lander. "You…you knew?"

A deep frown formed and his forehead creased. "Yes, m'dear, I did know. But I am the only one at this school who knows." He paused again. "You remind me much of your father. I interviewed him years ago when he was in Arkham and I was still working for the newspaper."

I dropped my books to put my hands against my ears and yelled, "Stop it! Stop it! He _isn't _my father! He _can't _be my father!"

He reached out a comforting hand, but I backed away. "This city," I started. "This city killed my father. You're the reason my dad has been dead since I was only a baby?"

"Your father was insane, Rose. He had to go. You have been under observation for a while now, Rose. Gotham has been watching you, to make sure you wouldn't become like him." He gave me a small smile. "If it makes you feel better, you've passed. You won't be under surveillance anymore. In fact, I'll make the call right now."

As he pulled out a cell phone and started talking to someone, I just stared.

That's it? He pulls this lesson out and tells me I have been watched like a science experiment since I was a baby? All because my dad was…the Joker?

I gritted my teeth, feeling a sort of rage inside that I had never in my life felt before.

Die. I want this man and all the others who knew about this to _die_, I thought.

Closing the phone, Landers looked up at me, obviously not seeing that I was _pissed off_. I must have had some sort of magical blank expression on my face. How else could he not tell I wanted to snap his neck in two?

Advantage.

That was an advantage.

That was the moment when I finally broke.

I felt a mad smile start to work its way onto my face. Backing up to the door, I slammed it shut, and locked it. Pulling the curtain over the door's window, I saw his expression of horror.

"What's wrong, Landers?" I grabbed a pair of sharp scissors from a nearby table and slowly started walking to him.

Unfortunately, he decided to act.

He jumped from his chair and started dialing the number he had earlier.

I don't think so.

And with that, I lunged at him just as he was about to dial the last number. I tackled him to the ground, and then I stabbed him in the throat with the scissors.

He screamed and screamed until I stabbed his throat so much he couldn't make a sound. He could only whimper in pain.

Good, I thought. Pain. I want them _all_ to feel pain.

"Time for the finale," I said, raising the scissors high above my head, loving the look of suffering in his eyes. "Aw, what's wrong, Landers?" I asked. I leaned down to whisper in his ear, "Why so serious?" And with that I stabbed him in the heart, amazed at how much stronger I suddenly felt.

Finally, he went limp, no longer struggling.

I smiled as I got off of his dead body. "You're only the first."

I looked down at my bloodied shirt and muttered, "Of course the one day I wear white, I get blood all over it." I took off my shirt and flipped it inside out. You could still kind of see the blood stain on the other side so I fished my jacket out of my bag and zipped it up. Grabbing my stuff, I walked out the classroom, careful to cover my hand with my jacket sleeve when I closed the door. I tucked the scissors into my back pocket, thankful the jacket was long enough to cover them up.

Walking down the hall, I felt my crazy smile leave. I didn't want to look guilty. And I also had to suppress a whole fit of giggles I felt coming on. Thank god everyone else is at lunch, I thought.

I decided it would be best if I went home for the day. And it was mom's day off. I could confront her head on with this.

I finally made it to the student parking garage, a security guard tried to stop me, but I took care of him, laughing like a maniac as I left his body. As I drove home, I couldn't stop smiling and laughing the whole way. I think I sped…a lot…on the way home, but somehow, no police started chasing me. As I parked my car in the garage of the apartment building, I couldn't help but think, what have I gotten myself into? But most importantly, I thought, dad would be proud of me.

Opening up the front door, I called out, "I'm home!"

I could hear my mom running down the hall upstairs and she stopped at the top of the stairs. "Welcome home honey!" She called. She ran down the stairs to give me a huge hug like she always did. She pulled back to look at me, some confusion in her eyes. "Cupcake, not that I'm not happy to see you, but don't you still have two hours of school left?" Looking at a clock, she said, "Make that three hours."

I laughed manically again. "Yep!" I called. I spun around, my arms out at my sides. "I'm free! I finally know!"

Mom only smiled even bigger and asked, "Know what, cupcake?"

I stopped and looked at her. "Guess! It should be easy…Harley Quinn."

Mom stopped smiling for a second. Just a second before she gave me another huge grin. "You finally found out, cupcake? How?"

"Simple." I started spinning around again. "Apparently at school, if you're at least eighteen, they teach about Batman's former foes from, like, forever ago. And they showed a picture of the Joker, aka _dad_. Oh, and you too."

Sighing at a memory, mom said, "Yeah, my puddin' sure was something else."

"Puddin'?" I asked.

"Yeah. That's what I always called him. Kind of like how I call you cupcake."

"I'm sure he loved having you call him that" I muttered.

Something suddenly occurred to me.

"Mom," I started, stopping my spinning. "How come you still love dad? I mean, he betrayed you several times didn't he?"

Shrugging, she said, "Yeah, but I can't help myself. My puddin' was just that lovable I suppose. And he never did cheat on me. I miss him."

"Miss who?" I heard Pam asked, as she entered the room.

I froze. Oh god, did Pam know?

"Ivy, she knows!" Mom cried, throwing her arms up in the air.

"Ivy?" I asked.

Putting a hand to her forehead, Pam asked, "So how did you figure it out?"

"Lesson at school! Now why did mom call you Ivy?"

She gave me a small smile as she said, "I was the villain Poison Ivy. Ever wonder why I could make anything grow in that small window garden?" She pointed a thumb back at the kitchen.

Cocking my head to the side, I said, "No. So you can control plants?"

"And I specialize in poisons. I'm immune to them, so is your mother. And you are too if I'm not mistaken. You have me to thank for that by the way."

Simultaneously, mom and I called out, "Thanks!" And started laughing like the crazy people we were.

"So now what?" I asked.

Mom and Pam looked at each other, having some sort of conversation with little more than a few looks. "Okay," Pam said.

Looking at me, mom said, "We should go see your father."

My eyes widened. "What? But I thought…"

"He was dead? Nope. That's just what they told everyone in Gotham. He's actually still sitting alone in a cell at Arkham Asylum."

She started pulling me to the door, but I had to ask. "Wait, will they let us see him? I mean, you were his assistant and all."

"The idiots thought that if I tried, he would break down and tell me everything. Though I knew everything already. They just don't know that!" She laughed. "Ivy, stay here and watch the place, would ya?"

She agreed but before we left, she landed me a tiny vial of some kind of greenish liquid and said, "This will make whoever drinks it appear to be dead." She said nothing more.

And it was that simple.

We drove to Arkham Asylum where mom worked, and we told them who we were, and they let us right in. How stupid were these people?

Apparently very, because they let us go through the place ourselves and to the cell where…dad was.

I couldn't believe it. All these years I thought he was dead…when he had just been locked up in a cell, doing god only knows what.

Mom led me to the lowest level in the place. It was a good three floors below the ground where they kept dad. And there were about a million different security codes and things we had to go through before we were finally walking down a long metal hallway.

I saw a door made of steel down at the very end of the hallway.

That must be it, it thought.

When we reached the door, mom stopped and said, "Let me go in first, cupcake."

She scanned her ID card and entered in several different codes before the door slid open and she went in.

She closed the door behind her and stayed in there for a moment before she came back out. She had a huge smile on her face. "He wants to see you."

I felt my heart start beating at a pace that should have killed me. I couldn't believe it. Sixteen years. Sixteen years it had been since I had seen dad, and I didn't even remember that.

The door slid open again and I went inside.

**Review or Rose will come after you too with a pair of scissors!**


	4. Chapter 4

I walked into the cell, not knowing what to expect.

I made it a few feet inside when I started looking around. I head the door slide shut behind me, as I was left alone the sadistic killer that was my father.

The cell was surprisingly large. The walls, floor, and ceiling were all padded. I looked around but found no one. It seemed I was alone in the room. I turned around to go outside and ask mom where the hell he was, when I stopped where I was.

Leaning against the door, was a tall man wearing a white prisoner's outfit. He had green hair and green eyes and had bleach white skin. It also looked like he was wearing lipstick but with a closer look, those were just the color of his lips. I see where i get my amazing looks.

He was looking right at me. I couldn't exactly explain the expression on his face. It was some kind of strange mix of hysteria, hurt, and possibly excitement.

I was about to ask him something, when he started laughing maniacally. His laugh…it reminded me of my own. I couldn't help but feel excited that my laugh was just like his. He stopped, a huge grin playing on his face.

Finally, he spoke.

"So," he began. "You're my bastard child, eh?" He walked over to me, observing. "You sure have inherited your mother's good looks. But I must say…you have my eyes."

I smirked. "So you're the oh-so-famous Joker, eh?" I walked around him, observing. "And my father, as I hear."

He laughed again. "Oh how you remind me of myself, Rose."

My laugh matched his. "That's what I've been hearing lately."

"You know," he walked over to a small bed in the corner I hadn't noticed before and sat down. "Harley told me that you didn't know anything about who I really was. Or that I was even still alive. How'd you figure it out?"

Shrugging, I said, "We had this lesson in history class that taught us about Batman's foes and next thing you know I'm staring at a picture of you. And I put two and two together and," I lowered my voice, "next thing I know I'm stabbing my history teacher in the throat with a pair of scissors." Remembering the scissors, I pulled them from my back pocket, amazed the guards hadn't taken them, and not caring if any cameras saw them.

I stared at the dried blood, still amazed I had actually taken someone's life. Two lives if you count the security guard's.

The Joker's eyes got wide. He giggled, reminding me of a madman…oh yeah. He was a madman.

He got up from the bed and walked over, taking the scissors when he reached me.

Looking at the dried blood, he said, "I must admit I'm impressed. Who would have thought that a little eighteen year old girl could kill in such cold blood?"

Laughing, I said, "I am _your_ daughter, am I not? And just because I'm five foot two doesn't mean I can't kill or kick anyone's ass."

Smiling again, he said, "Indeed." He handed back the scissors and said, "What do you plan on doing now, Rosie?"

I smiled a little at the nickname. I looked around the room, looking for security cameras. I only found one, and, hoping no one could read lips, I whispered, "I think I'll break you out of here. Unless you plan on betraying us of course."

He laughed again. This time it was loud enough to hurt my ears, but I didn't say anything. I was enjoying myself. I had finally met the man that had been out of my life since I was only a baby. It was amazing at how much I was like him.

Whispering along with me, he said, "And why should I team up with my bastard child and my ex-girlfriend?" He grimaced. "She does know we're not together anymore right? I only ever betrayed your mother because she became too needy. It's so annoying when someone will just keep attaching to you…like a leech."

I gritted my teeth a little. Just a little.

He laughed again. "Don't worry, Rosie. I won't ever betray _you_. At least as long as you aren't planning anything funny. But then again, I do rather enjoy _funny_ things." The way he said the word 'funny'. It was hard to explain. It was as if the word almost tasted good to him.

As much as I wanted to stay and keep talking with him, I couldn't stay too long. The security guards might get suspicious. I shoved my hands in my pocket, grabbing the bottle of liquid Pam had given me earlier. I kept my hands in my pockets for a moment, before reaching out the one with the liquid to shake Joker's hand.

"Well this has been fun, but I really must be going now," I said, trying to give him a look that said to take the bottle.

His eyes widened a little as he shook my hand and took the bottle. "Pleasure to finally meet my bastard," he said, quickly sneaking the bottle into his pants pocket.

I smiled and started laughing like a lunatic as I walked out the room. I couldn't help but hope that he felt proud of my insane laugh.

As the door slid closed, I listened to the noise of all the different locks and codes sliding back into place. I looked around and saw mom talking to one of the security guards.

I whistled to get her attention. She looked back and her bored expression brightened. "Cupcake!" She called to me, waving her arm at me.

God, the woman was more like a best friend than a mother sometimes.

Running to me, she asked, "Well? Did you have a good time, cupcake?"

"Wonderful, now let's go. I'm exhausted."

She frowned.

"What's wrong, cupcake? You not feeling well? Let's get you home and make you some soup."

"Oh god, no please. Let Pam make the soup. You're a horrible cook." I said.

She only grinned and said, "But that's why you love me so much!"

We started walking back up the stairs, then through elevators, and so and so forth.

When we made it back into the safety of the car, I looked at mom and said, "We're busting him outta there."

She cocked her head and said, "Oh? How are we going to do that, cupcake?"

"I gave him the vial that Pam gave me. It will make him appear to be dead. Now tell me, what do they do with the dead bodies at Arkham?"

She thought for a moment before saying, "They usually just tell their families if they have any. Then if the family wants, they hold a funeral service. After that, they're buried like anyone else."

"But what if they don't have any family or the family doesn't want anything to do with them?"

"Then they just cremate the bodies and bury the ashes."

"Damn it," I said. Okay, so we couldn't just hope they would bury him body then we go dig it up. We were going to have to plan a fucking funeral and _then_ dig up his body.

"I would say the effects of that antidote should last about, oh, four days." Mom said.

Pinching between my eyes, I said, "Let's go ahead and start planning the funeral. Then we'll be ready once they give us the call. But we should wait about a day after they call to say we're ready for the funeral. A day at the _very _least. Two days at the _most_. We can't have him waking up and suffocating in his own coffin."

Mom looked at me with a very serious look in her eyes. Then, smiling, she said, "You sound exactly like Mister J, so bossy and to the point."

"Mister J?"

"That's something else I would always call your father."

"So it was either puddin' or Mister J?" I asked, smiling.

"Yep!"

"Never Joker or …what is his real name?"

Thinking, she said, "I don't know. I don't think he's ever told anyone what his birth name is." Shrugging, she said, "Oh well. Probably something boring. Puddin' or Mister J or even Joker sounds better. Much better."

I sighed. "And how come you guys haven't tried busting him out yourselves these past eighteen years?"

"Mister J's orders. Every time I would try to talk him into it, he kept on saying something about 'not being ready.' I never figured out what he meant by that. Oh well."

Deciding to change the subject, I kept my eyes on the road as I said, "So you know any good cemeteries?"

"Of course. In fact, I think Penguin recently bought part of a cemetery so we could very easily make arrangements and not worry about getting caught." Laughing, she said, "Sure would be funny if we were caught digging up puddin's grave!"

Ignoring most of what she said, I asked, "Penguin?"

Laughing again, she said, "Honestly, don't they teach you anything in school anymore?"

I laughed too. "We probably would have learned about him tomorrow but you could say that my history teacher is now history."

Glancing at me, mom asked, "Oh? What'd you do? Kill him?"

Pulling out the scissors again, I said, "Yep!"

Smiling, she said, "That's my girl. Only seventeen and you've already killed someone!"

"Two people if you count the security guard."

"Security guard? Where? At your school?"

"Uh huh. He wouldn't open the gate for me so I opened it myself."

"You didn't leave any evidence did you? We can't have you with a criminal record quite yet."

"I honestly don't know. But with Landers, I made sure not to leave any finger prints and his class is angled in a way that no cameras would see anyone coming in or out."

"And the security guard?"

"Well, there aren't any cameras around his office since he's a guard. Or, was." I laughed again.

We made it home okay, I was a little on edge though. I half expected the cops to be surrounding our apartment.

When we got inside we filled in Pam on our plan. She was somewhat surprised that we had used the vial already.

"So who's going to contact Penguin?" Pam asked.

We were sitting in the living room, talking of our plans as if we were planning a thanksgiving meal. It was kind of funny.

"Well, neither me or you ended on a good note with Penguin." Mom said.

Pam and mom looked at me at the same time.

Holding up my hands, I said, "Whoa, whoa. I don't even know who this guy is."

"He's really just an organized crime leader. But very powerful. He might actually join the team again."

"So he's like the god father or something?"

Laughing, Pam said, "No, no. Just…well yeah I guess he kind of is."

I was so confused.

"So what do I do? Where do I even find him?"

"He should still own that old night club of his, oh, what was the name of it?"

Mom shrugged. "Beats me. But I do remember where it is. That's all that matters."

Trying to get this straight, I said, "Okay, so I go to this Penguin dude, and then what? Say, 'oh pretty please mister Penguin won't you join us?'"

"You could always try to seduce him," Pam suggested.

"Ew! Gross! My daughter is _not_ becoming involved with that old geezer!"

"How old is he?" I asked.

"Like, a hundred!"

"More like in his fifties or sixties, Harley."

"Like I said! A hundred!"

"You're almost forty." I pointed out.

"That's no where near a hundred!"

Planting a palm to my head, I said, "So what the hell am I supposed to do?"

"You know," Pam started. "He and the Joker worked fairly well together several times. Maybe by just saying you're his daughter will convince him to help us."

"Does he know that dad is still alive?"

"Hard to say. But if he doesn't know, he probably wouldn't be surprised. Your father has been brought back from the dead before."

My eyes turned to dinner plates as I said, "Um, repeat that?"

Laughing at my expression, Pam said, "Yeah, some of the old henchmen used some chemicals to bring him back." Pointing a thumb at mom, she said, "You should have seen blondie here when they brought him back. She was hysterically happy."

Irritated, I said, "Got something against blondes, redhead?"

"You're only part blonde. Don't forget the green in your hair."

"Still, I am blonde."

"With green streaks!"

"You're point being…?"

"Enough!" Mom yelled. "I want my puddin' back right now! Now Arkham could call any minute to say that they found him dead!" She pointed a finger at me. "Now get your ass to that nightclub and tell the Penguin to get his bird obsessed ass over here before I shove my foot so far up both your asses it comes out your throats!"

I was wide eyed again.

Gently, I asked, "Uh…you okay, mom?"

Back to grinning and smiling, she said, "Yes indeed! Now go to Penguin's nightclub! I'll write down the address for you!"

Grabbing a notepad and a pen, she wrote the address down and sent me off, after she made me put on this slutty looking red and black dress of course. Had to look nice for the club after all.

Driving, I thought, jesus fricken christ! Never seen mom act so…bipolar?

**I know this chapter wasn't too exciting, I think. But hey, the Joker was finally in it! Now review…please? With blood and guts on top?**


	5. Chapter 5

I was clad in nothing but this slutty dress and a pair of black heels that practically screamed "fuck me!", and I was on my way to try and seduce some old pervert who called himself the Penguin.

Life's a bitch like that.

The club was a decent size, though nothing too fancy or special. It looked more like a place where you go to buy a hooker or some crack. The idiot at the front door didn't even card me.

And apparently I looked like a hooker.

I got more than a few offers to "have a good time". And I have to admit it was more than tempting to go with them and knock them out, and then steal all of their cash. But then again I had a mission and I didn't want mom to murder me if I came home empty handed.

So I made my way through the crowd of drunken dancers and gamblers, trying to spot a "short, bald guy with a nose that will painfully remind you of a bird, and dressed in a tux and top hat. Oh, and quite possibly holding an umbrella" as mom described him. After fifteen minutes of searching the place I gave up.

"Maybe I should try asking one of these old guys," I thought out loud.

Making my way to the bar, I sat down on an old wooden stool and waited on the bartender to come. I spotted him a minute later talking to some old hooker who looked like she could be in her fifties. And, being the impatient bitch I was, I banged my fist on the table and called out, "Eh bartender! There are some younger ladies here wanting a drink ya know!"

Surprised, he looked at me, anger clearly in his face, and walked over to me. He observed me, knowing I was under twenty one, but asked, "What do ya want, kid? And make it quick, I'm busy here."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, I bet you would love a piece of that old worn down bag over there."

Lifting an eyebrow, he asked, "Why? You ain't in the business, are ya? You look a little young for that type of work, girl." He looked at my dress. "Then again, your dress says otherwise."

He started to reach out, possibly to touch my chest. No way.

I quickly reached into my dress to pull out the still bloody scissors I had used on Landers earlier. "I don't think so old man," I said, pressing the scissors hard against his throat.

His eyes widened in shock." What are you doing, kid?"

"Look," I started, making sure I kept a firm hold against his throat. "I'm only here to find some dude who calls himself the Penguin. Got any idea who I'm talking about?"

His eyes widened even further in shock.

Smiling, I said, "That's what I thought. Can you take me to him?"

Nodding his head, careful not to slice his neck with the scissors, he said, "What business do you have with him?"

I laughed my hysterical laugh. He seemed to recognize my laugh. I explained. "I need his help with busting out the Joker."

"Kid, you're pretty fuckin' insane. But I like that. I'll take you to him. He's just in the back," he pointed a thumb towards a door behind the bar.

Smiling, I said, "Great! Thank you _so _much!"

He lifted a part of the bar to my side and said, "Right this way, kid."

Making sure my smile was still in place, I followed him to through the door.

The room through the door was really small. It looked more like a storage closet than anything else. But I knew better.

The bartender pulled the handle of a broom, causing a loud and heavy sound as a secret door opened up behind a storage chest. The room that was through the secret door led to a long hallway. And at the end of that hallway was an elevator.

The bartender hesitated.

I held the scissors to his throat again. "Go ahead," I growled.

And so we went down the hall and to the elevator. Instead of pressing one floor key, he seemed to type in a code with the numbers. After that, the old elevator made a strained, creaking sound as it lifted us up.

"Okay, kid." He said. "As soon as these doors open up, we'll be in his office."

Smiling wider, I said, "Excellent!"

The doors opened to reveal a very nice office, with a large, long desk and several large leather chairs. And the office might have been comfortable looking…had it not been for the I don't even know how many stuffed birds and pictures of birds oh, and let's not forget the gigantic vulture that was sitting on a post next to the desk. And behind said desk sat a short, bald guy with a nose that would painfully remind you of a bird, and he was dressed in a tux and top hat.

Must be him, I thought.

Penguin looked up from some papers on his desk to glare at whoever had interrupted him. He glared at the bartender, but when he saw me, his expression changed quickly. He had this strange look of lust, disgust, and...recognition.

Pointing a long finger at me, he said, "You. Who are you, girl? You seem familiar."

I walked from behind the bartender, still wielding my bloodied scissors. Penguin glanced at the scissors and the blood that decorated them. He seemed unfazed.

"I'm Rose Quinzel. I need your help."

He laughed. His laugh disgusted me. It wasn't full of the rage and hysteria I had grown so fond of.

"I'm assuming you're Harley Quinn's daughter, sweetheart? And you!" he pointed at the bartender who was still trembling under the scissors.

"You let her take you with a pair of _scissors_? Really? Do I not pay you people enough or something? And she's just a little girl!"

My mouth twitched. I wanted to frown or scowl but fought it. I needed to seem...I don't know. I just can't afford act _too much_ like a bitch.

"Yeah I'm Harleen's daughter, and I just need a little favor."

His focus was back on me. "Have a seat, and let go of my bartender. Ever since he's been mixing he drinks, I've had a lot more income from this place," he said. As I sat down, he said, "Now let's talk business."

"Look, I'm just going to get straight to the point. I'm getting the Joker out of Arkham Asylum by faking his death. And when we bury him we want to in your section of the cemetery. I want you to make sure that there's _no one _else in the cemetery when we dig him up."

He folded his hands across his desk. "Quite the demand, Miss Quinzel. Why should I help you?"

I leaned forward, whispering, "Because with or without your help, Penguin, we're getting him outta there. And I don't think it would be a good idea to refuse the Joker. He can be rather...temperamental."

Laughing again, he said, "Sweetheart, what makes you think you come in here and threaten my staff, intimidate me, and then expect me to just up and help you?" He paused, glaring at me. I glared right back. "What business do you have with the Joker?"

Wow was this guy an idiot? Everyone else recognized me as the Joker's daughter.

I pointed at myself, saying, "I don't look _just _like Harley Quinn, do I?"

He thought for a moment. Then the idiot finally figured it out.

"You're...the Joker's daughter?" he paused, thinking. "Heh, I guess good old Miss Harley Quinn didn't cheat on the Joker after all. That's what everyone was saying you know. That you're mother was whoring herself around."

I lost it.

This guy was already pissing me off. And then he has the nerve, the gall to call my mother a _whore? _How _dare _he?

I lunged myself across the desk, ready to strike a deep vein in his neck.

He was ready for me though.

He let out some weird bird-like sound and pulled out what looked like an umbrella. It looked like a normal black umbrella at first, but with further inspection, I realized he could spray some sort of poison gas with it.

I tried holding my breath, but I was too late. Apparently inhaling just a tiny amount of that weird gas will knock you out.

I woke up later in my bed at home, with mom leering over me.

Oh fuck, I thought. She's pissed. When mom's pissed, you run. You run like the devil himself is at your fucking heels!

Propping myself up on my elbows, I said, "Uh, hey mom!" I tried to sound cheerful…let's just say I failed.

She just glared. "You're lucky I showed up because you forgot your phone, idiot!" She hit me on the back of my head.

Grabbing my head, I said, "Ow! What the hell!"

She sat down at my desk chair, continuing to glare. "I finished the deal with Penguin," she announced.

Grinning, I said, "Great! So has Arkham called yet?"

"Idiot!" she yelled again. She ignored my question "What if I hadn't shown up? I swear to god, you are just like your father sometimes!"

"But that's why you love me so much!"

Could glares possibly get any scarier?

"Yes, but your father never let himself get poisoned! And by the Penguin of all people!"

"Harley, go easy on her. It's not her fault. She's only a child after all" I heard a familiar voice say.

I looked around her to see the Penguin leaning against my door frame, and that damned umbrella still in his hands.

He noticed my look of death, and said, "Sure does remind me of you, Harley." I growled and threw one of my heavier at him. "Though she doesn't quite have that grace or any manners like you or Joker. No, not yet, anyway." He easily dodged the book and left it open on the floor, the pages bending and folding. I hated bent and folded pages in a book.

Back to her sweet, chipper voice, mom said, "Yeah, but that's why I love my cupcake so much!"

Penguin laughed. It still disgusted me. "Cupcake? That's even worse than puddin'!" He wouldn't quit laughing. That damnable laugh reminded me of a bird squawking.

Mom frowned. "What's wrong with cupcake or puddin'?"

"Nothing at all, mom," I answered for Penguin. I came back to my previous question. "So has Arkham called yet or not?"

Being the bipolar woman she was, she was back to smiling in less than half a second. "Yup! I'm going to call them tomorrow and say we're ready for a funeral." She seemed to develop a dreamy haze over her eyes. "I'm finally going to have mister J back!"

"And Rose will finally be able to spend some time with her father," I heard Pam say as she entered the room. She leaned next to the Penguin, who was eyeing her greedily. Looking at me, she asked, "So Rose, what do you plan on doing if this whole plan works out?"

I shrugged. "Don't know. Wreck havoc on Gotham? Kill the Batman? He is the reason dad has been locked up for so long." I gave her a devilish smile and my signature laugh that I was so proud of. "I plan on following in dad's footsteps. In fact, I think we should gather the entire gang of villains."

Everyone's eyes got real big and wide, reminding me of dinner plates.

I looked at everyone. "What?"

That's when the laughter started. I hated it all. Those laughs…they weren't filled with the… _hysteria_ that dad and I shared.

"_Now_ what?" I asked.

Between giggles, mom said, "Cupcake, do you have any idea how impossible that is? None of them want anything to do with the Joker anymore. He's betrayed everyone at some point. Even the Penguin."

I looked back at him.

"So what the hell are you doing here?"

"Innocent curiosity?"

"Bullshit," I declared. Looking back at mom, I said, "Well _I've_ never betrayed them."

"But you are the Joker's daughter," Pam pointed out.

I laughed again, hoping I was putting them to shame. "I can be very persuasive."

"Yes, I can see that from the way you handled your job with Penguin."

"That's not my fault!" I suddenly remembered what he had said about mom. "Besides," I said. "He called mom a whore. That's why I tried to kill him."

"With these?" Penguin asked, pulling out the scissors. He examined them. "So how many have you killed with these?"

"Only two."

He scoffed. "You're going to have to go on a killing spree. Get some _real_ blood on your hands."

I smiled. "Perhaps I will."


	6. Chapter 6

You know, faking being sad and depressed isn't as easy as it might sound. It's just stressful. Especially when you can't pull out a cigarette 'cause your family doesn't know you smoke.

You have to fake crying. A lot. Then I had to act all surprised and shocked that my father was the Joker.

"Oh no! How could this be?" I had to ask.

God I hated acting.

And you're going to love this. The diagnosis the "mortician" gave for the dad's "death" was that he had died from food poisoning. I laughed my ass off at that. Wow, now everyone who knew had been alive all these years will think the horrifying and deadly Joker who has been responsible for countless crimes died from food poisoning. I couldn't wait to see their faces when they found out he wasn't dead.

Me, mom, and Pam were the only ones attending his funeral. Not surprising, considering most of Gotham believed he was dead and the few who did know hated his guts. We were just that lucky I guess.

And I got to where the black dress I had been saving for an important occasion. It was short, reaching a few inches above my knees and showed off my chest perfectly. Not to mention I gotten more than a few looks from guys when I had stepped out of our apartment wearing it.

We were sitting in some metal chairs, waiting on the boring service to be over. Come on already, I kept thinking. He could wake up at any moment!

Turns out the antidote that Pam had given me only lasted about two days. I nearly tackled mom to the ground when I found that out. What whatever. What's done is done, and so on and so forth.

After about forty five minutes, the preacher or whatever he was left, leaving me, mom, and Pam alone in the cemetery, waiting on the mortician's assistants (aka a couple of the Penguin's goons) to come and bury the coffin.

We waited about thirty minutes on them to show up, when I said, "Screw this!" And went out to our cart to find the crow bar mom always kept in the trunk.

"Where are you going, Rose?" Mom called.

"To get the damned crow bar to open his coffin!" I answered.

"Will you two shut up!" Pam scolded us. "Someone might hear! And…" her voice faded as I walked further away to the parking lot.

Now I can have a smoke, I thought.

Reaching the car, I lit a cigarette and unlocked the trunk to dig for the crow bar.

"Sorry about your father." I heard a sudden deep voice say.

I jumped, slamming my head against the trunk lid and almost dropping my cigarette like the oh-so-graceful young woman I was.

Rubbing my head, I looked back to yell at whoever had spoken, when I choked on the words.

Holy shit.

Batman, _the_ Batman, was standing right before me. And…well hell, it was his useless sidekick…what was he called? Falcon or Raven or something. Something to do with a bird (remind you of a certain short old man?). Oh well, let's call him Bird Boy until I can remember it!

"Uh…thank you?" I tried.

Batman gave me a suspicious look. Bird Boy just stared at me, reminding me of someone.

Not knowing what to say, I offered a hand, saying, "Rosemary Quinzel. But everyone calls me Rose."

Batman refused to shake my hand. Bird Boy, however, extended his hand, gripping mine hard. Ow, I thought.

Letting go, I said, "So, uh, you're Batman, eh? And…ah…Robin!" I finally remembered!

I wanted to run screaming in the opposite direction, at least, that's what my instincts were saying to do. I ignored them.

"Yes," Batman answered.

I laughed, making sure it was extra loud and hysterical, just to rub it in their faces that I sounded so much like the Joker. "Not much for words, are ya?" I said.

"Heh, you're much like your father was, Rose." Batman looked me directly in the eyes when he said, "Maybe too much?" Robin looked around me to see what was in the trunk.

I looked back, seeing the crow bar and a rain jacket. Instinctively, I grabbed the rain jacket, lamely saying, "Might rain today."

He didn't say anything for a moment. Then Robin, unexpectedly, said, "I'm surprised."

"Why?"

"You're not one of those annoying, screaming fangirls."

"And I'm not trying to seduce either of you or take your picture."

"Or get our autograph."

"You actually have people ask for your autograph? They do know you're a superheroes and not a rockstars, right?" I stared. "Then again, who knows what's under those masks of yours. Why'd you choose the name Batman anyway?" I asked Batman.

He remained silent.

As I just stared like an idiot, unsure of what to say next, I noticed a black car driving in the distance.

Must be the Penguin's goons, I thought. I had to distract them, keep them away from the grave site.

"So what are you guys doing here?" I asked.

"The Joker and I fought for a long time. I know him and his tricks very well. I'm just making sure he hasn't planned anything funny. Especially not with you, Miss Quinzel." Wow, Batman talked more than Robin.

I shrugged, pretending to be sane. "Call me Rose. And besides, I never really knew him. Hell, up until recently I thought the bastard had been dead for years, since I was a baby." Well, that part was true.

"Your mother had good reason to hide the truth from you."

I laughed again. I could tell it bothered Batman, but not Robin. Who were these people? "And what was that reason? Did she not want me to feel anger? Hurt? Confusion? Who the hell cares? He was a crazy son of bitch, I'm not like him." My words were so smooth, free of any suspicion. Never knew how easy it was to lie to Batman and the wonder boy.

They must be idiots too, I thought.

Shutting the trunk, I said, "Well, be seeing you two, I guess."

"You aren't planning anything, are you, Rose?" That had come from Robin.

I turned my head to look at him, batting my eyes and giving him my most innocent little girl look. "Who, me? Never."

I could see behind them that they already had dad waking up and were most likely about to head this way.

I fought the urge to grit my teeth again.

Batman was still staring at me, untrusting. Robin seemed perfectly okay with me. Idiot.

Annoyed, I said, "Well if you're done staring at my chest you perverts, I think you should leave."

Confused, Batman said, "We never…" but he didn't finish his sentence before something, or rather someone (some-it?), knocked them both out. As they fell, I saw some kind of strange plant-like figure had knocked them out. Pam, I thought.

"Thanks a lot, Pam. What am I supposed to do with them now?" I asked, more to myself.

I thought about killing them, but that would have been too easy. Maybe I should take their masks off and see who they really are? Then I could reveal it to the press…! No. Again, that would be too easy and not fun at all.

I decided to just leave them there. But just to make sure they would be out for a while, I kicked them both in the head and sprinted to the small group that was waiting for me.

"Cupcake! Are you okay?" Mom asked, running to me.

Pushing her off, I said, "I'm fine. We need to leave _now_. Batman and Robin are knocked out in the parking lot and I have no clue how long they're going to be out. And thanks for that, Pam"

"No problem."

"Why don't you just kill them while they're out?" One of the Penguin's goons asked.

"Fool!" Dad and I cried in unison.

"That would be too easy!" dad started.

"And not fun at all!" I finished.

Mom and Pam were laughing at us.

"What?" I asked.

"It's just so weird. You're like a female mini-version of my puddin'!"

"I told you to stop calling me that."

"Can we please just leave?" I said. God they were acting more like giggling teenagers than mid aged villains!

"Where do we go now?" Pam asked. "Batman and his wonder boy are obviously going to be suspicious of us. So we need to hide somewhere."

"Boss might help you," goon one said.

"For a price," said goon two.

"Fine by me," I said. "Now let's _go_."

With that, we all got into the car the goons had come in, leaving mine back in the parking lot. I hated leaving it but you got to do what you got to do.

Goon two was driving, dad in shot gun, mom sitting on the left, Pam in the middle, which left me and goon one squished together. He kept on looking at my chest, and I kept fighting the urge to slap him.

"That sure is a short dress, girl." Goon one said.

I raised a fist, about to punch the hell of out him, when a razor sharp…playing card (!) suddenly came flying, landing right between his eyes. I yelped and pushed his now dead body off of me.

"Who the hell did that?" I yelled, finally shoving his body off.

The Joker started laughing.

"Never pegged you to be the protective father type," I said. Sick of goon one's dead body, I opened up the door and shoved him out. Hey, we were driving in a wooded area; I doubt anyone would find him anytime soon.

As I closed the door, mom answered for him. "That's just how wonderful of a father my puddin' is!"

"Are you still here?" he asked.

I slapped him on the back of the head. "You should treat a lady with more respect."

Rubbing the back of his head, he said, "I see no ladies in this car. Only two old women and a little girl." He cackled.

Me, mom, and Pam hit him at the same time. "Ow!" he cried.

"You four sure are amusing," goon two said.

"Say, aren't you upset that we killed your pervert of a partner?" I asked.

"Who? Phil? Nah, that guy was just a pervert. Always making nasty remarks. I may be a criminal lady, but that doesn't mean I can't be a gentlemen as well."

Pointing a thumb at him, I said, "I like this guy."

After that we were all quiet for a while. It wasn't really an uncomfortable silence; no one knew what to say I guess.

With nothing else to do, I pulled out the switchblade I decided to start carrying around. Seeing how shiny the blade was, I used it as a mirror, fixing my now messy hair.

"Ugh, you're just like your mother," dad said, staring at me through the rearview mirror.

"What?"

"Always fixing yourself, making sure you look perfect."

"Nothing wrong with that," mom defended me.

"Who cares? As long as you commit mayhem and destruction what should it matter how you look?"

"Hey, I want to look good _while_ causing mayhem and destruction. When they take a picture of me burning down a building, I want to look hot, like the fire." I smiled, imaging myself burning down numerous places. Towers, houses, bridges, ah…so many different places and things.

"Is she a pyromaniac?" Goon two asked.

"Ever since she first discovered fire at the age of three," answered Pam.

Dad cackled again. "That's my girl."

"Whatever," I said, annoyed that they were suddenly talking about me like I was still three and playing with matches.

"You know she asked Santa for a pack of Bic lighters for Christmas one year?" Mom said, laughing fondly at the memory.

"I think she was only five then. She was so cute with her pigtails!"

"Mom made me keep them like that! And I'm going to stab all of you with this blade," I threatened.

They all just laughed at me like I was still a three year old little girl threatening to beat them up.

"I think I might have picture of her with a lighter in my wallet!" mom said.

"I swear if you pull that picture out I'm going to burn it."

"We're here," goon two said as we started pulling onto a gravel driveway.

At first it was nothing but a gravel path, but soon we arrived at a huge mansion. And when I say huge I mean _fucking huge_.

"Never knew the Penguin was so loaded," I muttered under my breath, unable to take my eyes off of the ginormous mansion.

This place had to have _at least_ three floors! There were windows decorating it all around and the front doors! The front had double doors that had to be ten feet tall. And don't get me started on the marble pillars that were helping hold up this huge balcony. And if this was just the front of the house…how loaded was this guy anyway?

Goon two laughed at my expression as he stopped the car.

As everyone got out of the car, I couldn't help but continue to gawk at the mansion. No one else stopped to look so I assumed they had been here before.

"If you're done staring," Pam said. "I think we should go in. It's getting cold out here."

"It doesn't feel that cold," I said.

"Well think about it like this," mom explained. "Pam is practically half plant. So she should be more sensitive to the weather like any plant."

"But a lot of plants can withstand extreme weather."

"Not all plants though."

"Makes sense."

"Are you done babbling yet?" Pam asked.

"I think so."

"Then let's go inside already!"

"Whatever you say."

"Are the three of you always like this?" Goon two asked.

With me and mom smiling, and Pam scowling, we said, "Yep!"

Pointing at us, the goon asked dad, "How can you stand them?"

"I could barely stand just the two of them before, now there's another to add on to the pile."

"You know you love us," I said.

"Love is foreign to me."

"But with love comes madness, are you saying you're sane?"

"Not hardly."

And with that, we stepped inside the grand mansion; I was excited to see what was on the inside.

I would eat those words later.


	7. Chapter 7

**Writer's block is a bitch. Just thought I'd share that. Oh, and I demand you review, and blah, blah, *insert horrible threat like what all the other authors do*…so yeah, there's that. Anyway, enjoy this completely random chapter (this chapter is just kind of a filler. I'll admit that much)**

If there's anything you can learn from staying at the Penguin's "super secret" mansion, it's this: do not drink anything that comes from this hidden storage room in the kitchen and is labeled with a giant X. Because it can be only one of three things; it can be poison, it can be paralysis, or it can be a hallucinogenic.

All I can say is hope for the poison or the paralysis.

Now, dear reader, you're probably wondering, "where the hell is this going?" I wish I could answer that question. Perhaps explaining will help. *Cough, Cough* Let me start from the beginning:

I was standing in the huge kitchen of the mansion, starving.

We had been staying at the Penguin's place for about four days now; we had been keeping up with the cops tracking us through the TV and radio. The idiots thought we were hiding somewhere that was a good hundred miles away from where we were actually staying.

So here I am, bored from just laying around doing nothing but watching TV and playing poker with the goons the past four days (every game I played I had won at least fifty bucks. They had no clue how to play). Of course I'm going to be bored as hell.

And itching for a cigarette since I used my last one the day before. I had tried to talk one of the goons into giving me one of theirs but they always just went into some speech about how they were bad for you and blah, blah, blah. And hunger doesn't exactly help with the situation.

I'm rummaging through the pantry and all I can find is a bunch of crap only a bird would eat. No chips, no soda, not even a fricken frozen pizza? Come on! All there was in the pantry was fruit, water, nuts, the occasional frozen fish, etcetera; see? Nothing but bird food.

As I'm pushing aside a box of raisons, I accidently flip some sort of switch. I hear a rumbling sound behind me, reminding me of the secret door at the Penguin's nightclub. I turn around to find a small secret room that is filled with shelves, and on those shelves are small bottles, each labeled with some sort of colored X on it.

Curious, I step inside.

I grab a random bottle off one of the shelves. It had a thin brown liquid in it and was labeled with a purple X on the front. I turn the bottle over and over, looking for something to identify the liquid. I found nothing.

So, being the oh-so-logical person I was, I unscrewed the cap and smelled the substance.

My mouth started watering.

It smelled like chocolate! Chocolate! Chocolate, oh my dear, sweet chocolate!

So, believing it was chocolate syrup, I guzzled the whole thing down, not thinking it could be something else. Hey, we all have our not-so-bright moments.

Within seconds, I'm transported to this entire new world!

The sky is yellow and the sun is blue! The flowers are talking and singing to me, and there are clocks flying all around, cawing like birds. I laughed at the sight.

"What beautiful singing flowers!" I said, hugging them.

And, well hell, the Mad Hatter showed up!

"What the hell are you doing?" He yells at me.

I laugh again and twirl around, my long hair whipping all around in a wind that is whispering the secrets of Wonderland to me!

"Everything! I know _everything_" I call to the beautiful land.

The flowers are singing again, encouraging me to run about and enjoy the rest of Wonderland.

I push past the Mad Hatter, running forward at such speed! Such speed, indeed! I was running _with_ the wind! No one could catch me! No one could stop me!

"I'm invincible!" I yell at the top of my lungs.

I could distantly hear the Mad Hatter running after me, telling me to stop running.

I stop running.

Wonderland! What has become of Wonderland!

The sky is white and the moon is black. The ground is covered by a gigantic black and white chess board. And blood. Let's not forget the blood.

I see a red queen chess piece coming after me, yelling something I couldn't hear.

I point at shaking finger at her, screaming, "The Red Queen! You did this to Wonderland!" I jumped on top of her. "I'll kill you, Red Queen! I WILL KILL YOU!"

"What the hell are you talking about?" she yells, acting confused.

"You can't fool me!"

A magical sword suddenly appeared out of no where. The sword was beautiful! It had every color of the rainbow on it!

I grabbed the sword. "I shall kill you with this grand sword of the gods of Wonderland!" I scream, holding it straight in the air like I was He-Man or something.

The Red Queen screamed and managed to get out of my grasp.

"NO!"

As she runs away, I start to randomly slash the sword around, not caring who I hit. Then the Mad Hatter had to try and ruin my fun.

He pounced on top of me, trying to wrestle the sword from me. "TRAITOR!" I yelled at him.

"You're fucking insane, kid!" He yelled back.

Then the Caterpillar (aka, drug addict) of Wonderland showed up!

"What. Are. You. Doing?" He asked, annunciating each word. And with each word he spoke, the smoke that escaped from his mouth (which was busy with a hookah at the moment) formed his words; each one was a different color.

His eyes suddenly exploded, blood falling like a waterfall and maggots were coming out of his eye sockets.

The smoke from his hookah drifted around me, engulfing me in a sea of colorful smoke.

I started thrashing around, trying to make the smoke go away. I started coughing from it all, choking. "GET AWAY! GET AWAY!" I screamed. How was it my throat wasn't soar from screaming so much?

I thought I felt something through the thick cloud of smoke. I did.

I grabbed onto whatever it was, desperate to get out of this hell. When I came through the cloud, I looked up at my savior.

"The Cheshire Cat!" I called.

"What?" he asked.

I tackled him, thankful he was there.

"Oh thank god, you're here, Cheshire Cat!"

"But I'm not…!"

"No time to talk!" I started pulling him through the still colorless Wonderland. "We have to save Wonderland!"

I wasn't sure where I was going. All I knew was that it was somewhere. But where was that somewhere? What was that somewhere? How was the somewhere? Or was it a someone? Where was that someone? What was that someone? How was that someone? Or was a something? Where was that something? What was that something? How was that something? Or was it…?

I was suddenly hit on the head by the Cheshire Cat.

I fell to the chessboard ground. Turning onto my back, I screamed. "You're siding with the Red Queen too? How could you? HOW COULD YOU?"

He put his paws to his ears, yelling, "Shut up! You're giving me a fucking headache!"

"Cheshire Cat! You're not supposed to cuss! This is a children's story!"

"No it's not! This isn't Wonderland you hallucinating bastard child!"

"I have the antidote! Inject them both into her chest!" Someone called to the Cheshire Cat.

I turned my head to see the Red Queen, two syringes filled with colorful liquid in her hands. She tossed the syringes to the Cheshire Cat, who then turned to me, ready to inject the liquids.

I struggled, screaming the whole time. "NO! NO! I WON'T BE KILLED OR BE BRAINWASHED BY YOUR POTIONS! HOW CAN YOU BE HELPING HER CHESHIRE CAT? HOW COULD YOU…?" I didn't get to finish, he plunged the needles straight into my chest.

I screamed in pain.

My heart jumped out of my chest! It started running away, screaming like I still was. Then…everything was melting! All of Wonderland was melting! No! No! No! I closed and covered my eyes, not wanting to see the horrible sight.

But I could still hear the screams! The screams of all the creatures of Wonderland! They were all in pain! No! Wonderland wasn't supposed to be painful! It was…..

…a hallucination?

I uncovered and opened my eyes, looking around frantically.

I found nothing of Wonderland. I was laying on the floor in the middle of the parlor of Penguin's mansion. Mom, dad, Pam, Penguin, and several goons were in the room with me, staring at me. They were unsure of what I was going to do.

Well I can promise you I wouldn't be attacking anyone any time soon. My breathing was so frantic; I think I was hyperventilating! And my heart, where the needles had hit, it was hurting horribly. And my mouth! Oh god, I needed some water badly. My mouth was drier than cotton.

And, as if she had read my thoughts, Pam handed me a full glass of water. I downed the whole thing in under ten seconds, more eager for it than I had been the chocolate syrup earlier…the chocolate syrup! It wasn't chocolate, it was drugs! I wasn't sure what kind in particular, all I knew was that it was definitely a hallucinogenic.

After downing the water and wiping the little bit that had dripped onto my chin, I had to ask.

"So," I started, handing the now empty glass back to Pam. "Who was who?"

"Apparently I was the Red Queen." Pam was the first to answer me, the only one sure I was out of my trip.

Trusting Pam's decision to trust me, the Penguin said, "And I was the Caterpillar."

"Singing flower," several goons piped in. I was sure I heard one whisper something about me being a "crazy, psychopathic bitch."

"Mad Hatter," mom said.

I turned to dad. He cackled. "The Cheshire Cat."

"Oh," Pam said. "And that was the 'grand sword of the gods of Wonderland.'" She pointed at a broom and was obviously holding back a fit of giggles. You didn't see that often with Pam.

I suddenly noticed a warm, thick liquid dripping from the top of my left breast. I looked down to find blood pouring from two wounds. They weren't all that bad and just a little painful now. I wiped the blood up and licked it from my fingers. I saw some of the goons grimace at the sight.

Funny, I thought. If you look at the wounds just right, they kind of looked like…

I pulled out my knife. I finished off the image I had had in my head, wincing a little as I carved the picture into my skin, and laughing the whole time at the pain I was feeling.

Finally done, I put the knife back into my pocket, admiring my bloody work.

I had carved an apple into my breast. I planned to have golden ink tattooed into it. Then it would truly be the symbol of the Greek goddess Eris. She was the goddess of chaos and discord, which was exactly what I was aiming for.

I cackled like dad had, ignoring the expressions of horror most people in the room had at what I had done to my skin. "So what the hell was that stuff that was making me trip so bad?"

Pam scratched her chin, deep in thought. "Not sure exactly. Definitely a hallucinogenic, though."

I rolled my eyes. "Obviously."

"All I know is that it was some kind of drug that I made for the Penguin a few years ago. You're lucky you took that and not the poison or paralysis."

"I think I'd rather be dead or paralyzed than go through that again."

She hit the back of my head.

Rubbing it, I said, "What the hell?"

"Don't say things like that you idiot! Especially about death!"

I held up my hands as if they could defend me from the wrath of Pam. "Chill out! I wasn't being serious?" Then I grinned. "Why so serious, Pam?"

She hit me again.

"Ugh! If I have to here that one more time, especially from him," she pointed at dad, who just cackled again. "I'm going to explode! We have been stuck inside this damn house, if you can even call it a house, for only four days and I'm already sick of everyone in it! I don't think I can take this much longer!"

An idea came to me.

"Why don't we just switch hideout every few days?" I asked.

"Idiot!" Pam yelled. "Where are we supposed to go 'every few days'? We were lucky enough that Penguin was willing to help us!"

"Well, there is that one guy…oh, what was his name?" Penguin said, pretending not to remember.

Pam rounded on him. "Who? Who? I don't care! I'll go anywhere at this point!"

"Harvey Dent, aka Two-Face."

Pam's face fell, all color gone. Then, in less than a second, her face was beet red and she was screaming in his face. "HIM? No! I refuse to go anywhere near that bastard!"

Getting up, I inched near dad who was closest. "Um…who's Two-Face?" I asked.

"He's another former villain. Since I've been in Arkham so long I have no clue what he's been up to. But he was crazy." Dad grinned. "I liked him because of that. And he would decided the fate of his victims, well of any choice he made actually, by flipping this coin he had."

I grinned back. "He sounds fucking insane! I like him already!"

"Better not let Ivy hear you say that…" his words drifted as we saw Pam walking to us, a _very _scary expression on her face.

"_What_ was that, Joker?"

He cackled. You gotta love dad. "Oh, Rose was just saying how much she loves Two-Face!" Then again, dad could be a pain in the ass.

She turned to face me, anger clear in her face. "_What_?"

"Hold up! I don't even know who he is! I was just saying he sounded insane. I like insane. _I'm_ insane. You know that, Pam." I looked away, trying not to giggle. "So, um, why do _you_ hate him so much?"

I thought she was about to explode. "_Why_? He's a lying, no good, rotten, two-faced…forget that last part…but yeah! He was a jerk! He was an asshole! I hope the other half of his face rots off!"

"In other words, they used to date and were even engaged for a while," Mom supplied.

Now Pam was in mom's face. "We swore we would _never_ speak of that again!"

"He's the only one we know of that might help us."

"Well…! I…!..._FINE_! I'll be waiting in the car! I'm going to show that shithead what happens when you cheat on Pamela Lillian Isley!" And with that, a now eager Pam went outside, muttering something about a "lying, cheating bastard who wasn't worth two shits."

When we heard the front door slam, everyone let out a deep breath, relieved she had gone outside.

"She's more insane than the Joker's kid!" I heard a goon say.

"What was that? She's _not_ more insane than _me_!" I screamed like a banshee, tackling him and pulling out my switchblade to carve smile into the goon's now horrified expression.

What can I say? Oh yeah…I'm fucking _insane_. And don't ever forget that.

**So…yeeeeeaaah. Rose is obviously starting to _really_ go off the deep end a little. But that's supposed to happen. I know it may seem a little soon for that, but whatever. This is my version of the story and I have no clue how long this story will go, so I want to go ahead and make her mad as a hatter. Anyway, I really enjoyed writing this chapter. And I hope you enjoyed and review!**


	8. Chapter 8

"What the hell are we doing?" I asked everyone that was crammed into the car. That included me (duh), mom, Pam, dad, and one of the goons driving.

Looking at me, Pam asked, "What do you mean, Rose?"

I couldn't help myself. A lot had been on my mind the past hour or so and I finally had to let it all out. "You're all so soft!" I yelled, not caring if it hurt anyone's ears.

"What?"

"You're supposed to be some of the most bad ass villains in Gotham! I have yet to see any of you commit one crime, and faking your own death doesn't count," I added.

Mom put a comforting hand on my shoulder, about to ask something, but I kept on going.

"What happened? The goons back at the mansion told me some of the most awesome and horrific stories about you guys! You would rob banks! Blow up buildings! Kill people at random! What the hell happened? It seems I'm the only one here who's committed any _real_ crimes lately!"

"You may be my daughter, Rose. But don't think for one second I will let you talk like that to any of us." The Joker sounded a little scary. "We have done things and seen things that would make you break down and cry right here and now if you knew about any of them."

He was suddenly in front of me, a knife in his hands. He stuck the blade in my mouth, moving it closer and closer to one of the corners.

I didn't care.

I hoped he killed me! I really did!

"Go ahead," I said, egging him on. My voice sounded a little funny with the blade in my mouth, but I ignored it.

"Mister J! Stop! You're really going to kill our own daughter!"

"She doubts us. She deserves to die."

I looked him straight in his eyes. It was almost like looking in a mirror when I looked at his eyes. "I hope you do it. Give me scars like yours. Just make me scarier. You can beat me. You can cut me. You can _kill_ me. But you sure as hell can't destroy me."

"Just watch me."

One of his eyes twitched. So did his hand. He was really tempted to give me a similar Glasgow smile like what he had. Good. It will just make me even more intimidating to my future targets. Maybe I'll tattoo those new scars along with the apple that now decorated my left breast. (I had had one of the goons who knew how to tattoo to add some golden coloring. It was finally a true apple of discord)

"Well?" I asked. "Do you have the balls to do it or not? Go ahead. Hurt and possibly kill your sweet, precious daughter."

He moved the blade.

"Mister J, NO!" mom yelled, hurting my ears a little.

"Relax," I said, taking the blade out of my mouth.

"H-he didn't cut you, Rose?" mom looked like she was shaking. Geez, did she love me that much? Well apparently not enough to stop him.

"No. If he had, I might have had a little more confidence in you people. You're all still weak in my eyes."

"Heh, you have a lot to learn, kid." The goon muttered.

If he hadn't been driving, I would have slit his throat. But I didn't want to be bothered with a car wreck, so I just let him be, planning to slit his throat later. Or maybe I would blow him up! The few days we spent at Penguins mansion, I learned a little from the goons. Just how to make gun powder, where the most important arteries were in the human body, etcetera. Nothing too special. I did have a lot to learn, but at least I wasn't just sitting back, doing nothing like everyone else.

I wanted more blood on my hands! They should too! Especially the Joker (I had started refusing to call him dad), he's been locked away since I was a baby and not once has he mentioned any new plans! You would think he would be itching to do something after all these years!

"Shouldn't we be making plans?" I asked

It seemed everyone was just ignoring me now.

"Hello!" I called. "You guys call yourselves villains? Where's the blood? The carnage! Your nothing but a bunch of washed up _former_ villains! You've spent way too long not committing any crimes. So much it seems you've all been following me rather than you, Joker! You're still the leader! The boss! Start acting like one!"

"Stop the car," Joker said.

The goon did as he was told.

"What the hell are we doing, Joker?" Pam asked.

"Get out," he said to me.

"What?"

"You're lucky I don't just kill you here and now. I was testing you these past few days, Rose. I wanted to know that I could trust you to take over for me one day. You failed miserably. You may be insane. But you're far too unstable to lead anyone."

"Too unstable!"

"Yes. Now. Get. Out."

"Fine." I said. "I'm sick of you washed up freaks anyway. I'm going to go get some bloodshed going while you guys just switch hideouts every few days, doing nothing like the cowards you are."

"You think you can learn everything you need to in just a few days? You kill a few people and suddenly you're a tough villain that many should fear? Wrong. Go. Go see for yourself, Rose. You're going to end up being captured because of your overconfidence."

I slammed the car door as hard as I could, and they sped off. No one even looked back. Not even mom. I now saw whose side she was really on, who she was truly loyal to. I admit it hurt a little. But I ignored the little ache I felt. It would just make me weak.

Good, I thought, watching the car lights grow dimmer and dimmer. I hoped they all wrecked and died. They were just a waste of space.

I started walking down the side of the highway we had been driving on. It was the middle of the night so there weren't many cars. Fine by me.

But of course there's always that one overly nice person who just has to stop and ask if you're okay. Idiot.

A dark green truck pulled to the side of the road. "You okay, miss?" I heard someone ask.

I had an idea.

I fell to the ground, making a few painful grunts. "Oh, help me! I think I've broken my leg!" I cried, putting as much panic into my voice as I could.

I saw the truck door open; it was just a nice looking guy holding a flashlight that got out. No one else was with him. Perfect.

I readied my blade, watching him walk closer and closer. "I'll get you to a hospital, miss. Don't worry." He shined the light on my legs. "You're legs look fine, miss."

Those were his last words.

Well, unless you count the screams of pain he was making. Once he was dead, I carved an apple similar to the one on my chest into his cheek. Smiling at my work, I licked up some of the blood I had gotten on my hands.

Is it wrong if I searched all his pockets? Nah.

"Ah ha!" I called as I dug out a wallet. Searching it, I found about fifty two bucks in cash. And add that with the money I earned playing poker with the goons…damn. I only had a little over two hundred on me. If I just spend it on food it should last a while. But then again if I was going to steal his truck I would have to buy gas eventually…

I decided to take what I got from him and leave, I'd worry about gas later. Who knows, maybe I would just steal another car.

Looking at his truck, I observed every inch of the inside. In the glove compartment, I found just old papers and what I figured was a picture of his family. Aw, he had a wife and one young kid. Now that kid will know pain similar to what I had to go through as a child.

I looked around the truck some more to find his cell phone on the dashboard and he had left the keys in the ignition. Good. I got into the drivers seat and drove off, leaving his dead body on the side of the road.

Where should I go? I can't go back home obviously.

Maybe…no. I didn't really have any friends who would let me stay with them. Besides, all of Gotham probably knows my face by now. Where? Where should I go?

A thought occurred to me.

"No, no!" I shook my head. I couldn't call him! I couldn't! My hands twitched, wanting to reach for the phone. "If what he said was true…" I decided it couldn't hurt to try.

I dialed in Damian's number. I knew it by heart from all the times he had tried giving me his number. For the first time, _I _was actually going to call _him_. Weird.

It rang about three times before he answered.

"Hello?" his voice sounded kind of groggy, he must have been asleep.

Oh god, how do I start? I don't even know if he'll help me! No, no, I should just hang up.

"Hello?" he said again.

Aw, what the hell. "Hey! It's me, Rose!" I said, trying to sound happy and chipper.

His voice was suddenly much more awake. "Rose? Where the hell have you been? Are you okay? The police have been searching everywhere for you and the Joker! And some other people. They're saying you got him out of Arkham. No one even knew he was still alive!"

"Uh…no I didn't break him out! Well, uh, not voluntarily. He black mailed me into helping him! He even tried to say he was my father!"

"Rose," his voice suddenly changed. I didn't like it. "Why don't you come by my place? I'll let you stay as long as you want. This house is so big no one besides me will ever know that you're here." His voice…he wasn't requesting, he was _demanding_.

I hesitated.

The way he said those last words…he was…he was trying to do something. But what? What was he trying to do? He wanted me there obviously, but why? Just to flirt with me? Highly unlikely.

I thought long and hard, unsure of what to do.

"Okay," I said slowly after a moment thinking some more.

"I'll see you later then, bye."

"Bye."

I hung up the phone and smiled. If he tries to turn me in, I'll just kill him. But wait, what if he's calling the cops right now so they can meet me there…?

I could always stop the car a few miles back so I can walk and see if he's called any cops…yeah. I'll do that, I decided.

I had never been to Wayne Manor.

So it's not surprising that my jaw would drop at my first sight of it.

I had parked the car several miles back and had run most of the way, glad I had kept myself in shape.

Breathing hard, I stopped, putting my hands on my knees, turning my head to the side a little to search for cop cars.

None.

When I turned my head up, my eyes were practically glued to the sight that was before me.

Wayne Manor was more impressive than the Penguin's mansion.

It was…indescribable

It was obviously pretty old. It had an ancient, old Victorian style to it. It rose around four or five stories above ground (and who knows how much underground).

I just stood there for a few minutes, staring like an idiot at the place, taking in every inch I could.

Then I felt tapping on my shoulder.

I felt a scream ready to be released from my throat, but before it could escape, a hand covered my mouth, gentle but firm.

"Calm down, Rose. It's just me," I heard Damian's voice tell me.

I swallowed down the scream, relaxing a little.

Putting a hand to my chest, unbelieving at how fast my heart was pulsing, I said, "Damian! You scared the living hell out of me!"

"You seem yourself," he said unexpectedly.

"What do you mean?" I asked, still trying to calm myself down.

I turned around to look at him. He was only wearing sweats and a t-shirt, and his hair was still ruffled from where he had been sleeping earlier.

"Everyone's been saying you've gone completely insane. They even suspect that you killed Landers the other day."

"Oh yeah, so they found him, eh…" I muttered.

"What was that?"

"Nothing." I answered too quickly. "Um…so will you let me stay here? Just for a little while?" I asked, not even bothering to act seductive or anything. I was too tired. For the first time in days…I felt…_sane_.

I didn't have any sudden urges to kill. No thirst for blood. Nothing. I felt almost _numb_. It was like being away from the Joker had calmed me down. Or was it being in the presence of Damian?

No! Don't be stupid!

"Oh my god, Rose. What the hell happened to your chest?" Damian asked, pulling me out of my head.

"Huh?" I said, confused. "Oh yeah," I said, looking at the carving of the apple on my left breast. I was only wearing a tank top and jeans so of course he could easily see my new scar.

For the first time since I had carved it into my skin, I felt regret. Regret for ruining my beautiful skin with this monstrous carving.

What was I saying?

Why am I suddenly acting so sane? So…reasonable. Not acting on impulse! Thinking before I do or say anything!

"Rose? Are you okay? You look like you're trembling."

I felt one single tear escape from the corner of my eye. Murder. I had committed…murder. More than once.

"Damian," I said, my voice trembling and my throat burning with tears. "I'm scared. I don't know what's happening to me!" I felt like I was back in Lander's classroom. I felt the tug inside my chest I had so many days ago. It was a…struggle. As if I couldn't decide…but decide what?

The rest of the tears started falling.

"Oh god, Rose. Don't cry, I can't stand it when girls cry. Come on, I'll take you inside." He put an arm around my trembling shoulders, trying to comfort me as he led me to the back of Wayne Manor.

"You didn't tell anyone else I was coming did you?" I asked. I had to force the words out. Any words for the rest of the night would be a struggle to say the least.

"No, don't worry, Rose. I'm the only one that knows you're here." We stopped at a tall flight of stairs that led to a balcony high above the ground. He looked at me. "Can you make it up the steps?" He asked, concern in his voice.

"Y-yeah," I stuttered.

Pulling. Tugging. It felt like there were two different creatures inside my chest and they were having a tug of war match. Who would win? One of them felt soft and comforting. The other felt hard and jagged, demanding. Which of these sides would win the fight?

Before I even knew it, we were already up the stairs and heading for a door that was being held open by a book on the ground.

Then the voices started.

_**You will not win**_

_You have held control for days now, allow me to take overl_

_**Forget it. You are a weak being not worthy of holding control**_

_This child is not a toy to be played with, perhaps we should allow her to decide her own fate_

_**No way. She's mine. Mine.**_

These voices…they were so confusing. I hung my head to the ground, wanting to just pass out, hoping it would quiet the voices.

"Rose?"

Damian's gentle voice pulled me out of the brief unconscious state I had been in.

At least the voices had stopped.

I looked around the room we were in. It looked like this room had been built for a prince. Must be Damian's room, I thought.

He laid me on the large king sized bed, pulling the sheets over me. He just stared at me for a minute, pushing my hair out of my face. Finally, he said, "Do you want to talk, or do you want to sleep, Rose?"

"Sleep…" I managed to mumble before closing my eyes, drifting once more.


	9. Chapter 9

**Okay, short chapter today. Sorry.**

When I awoke, it was well past noon.

My eyes struggled to open, I still felt exhausted, and I couldn't really remember much of what had happened the night before.

When I finally opened my eyes, I saw I was lying in a huge bed in a huge room. What the hell…?

Then it all came back to me. The fight with the Joker, me killing that poor guy, and then Damian allowing me to stay at his place, the voices in my head…And it all ended with a huge headache…

I put a hand to my head, unbelieving at the amount of pressure and pain I felt in my skull. I was about to call out for Damian, to see if he would get my some aspirin or something, when his voice asked, "Are you awake, Rose?"

"Yeah," I mumbled. My throat was very dry, causing my voice to sound like I hadn't had water in days. I tried to prop myself up on my elbows, after struggling for a second, I succeeded. Pressing my back against some pillows, Damian walked over to hand me some water. "Thanks," I said, gulping down the water.

"No problem," he said.

Taking the glass from me, he sat on the side of the bed. He crossed his arms. "So what the hell happened, Rose?"

I looked down, clenching my fists.

How could I tell him? How could I tell anyone about the awful stuff I had done…?

"Well?" He asked, a little demanding.

Oh god, don't start crying again, don't start crying again…! Damn. Too late. The tears were falling before I could even stop them.

Between tiny sobs, I told him the truth. Everything. I started from the night that homeless guy had talked to me and I ended with me calling him. By the time I had finished, I was sure I had run out of tears to cry.

"I just…I feel like such a _monster_ now, Damian! But it's so weird! Why is it I didn't feel any remorse for killing any of those people until last night? And that guy whose truck I stole…he had a family. And now his poor child will have to suffer like I did when I was a kid. Why am I acting so different now?" I felt like crying again.

He let out a long breath, like he had been waiting on me to tell him something else. Something much worse. "Well, it's not nearly as bad as I thought," he muttered.

"What are you talking about?"

He looked at me. "Nothing." He smiled. "Do you want something to eat? Alfred can bring you anything you want."

My eyes widened. "I thought you said no one else knew I was here!"

He rolled his eyes. "Don't worry. If I can trust anyone, its Alfred."

"Um…who is he exactly?"

"He's ah…kind of like an assistant for my dad. But he's really also a bit of a butler." He grinned. "I used to make him do all sorts of stupid stuff when I was little. But he would always do as I say. He's also like the grandpa I never had."

"I highly doubt you would have made you're grandpa wait on you."

He shrugged. "You got me there."

"Damian?" I asked.

"Hmm?"

"Why are you not scared of me? After all the horrible things I've done, and wanted to do, why do you still act the same around me? Most people would be scared I would murder them. Of course, a few days ago I would have. But I feel so different now. So _changed_. But," I grit my teeth, not wanting to say the next part. "I also feel like I could slip right back into those habits at any moment. It's like there's some sort of struggle inside me…and I feel like I might hurt you if I…" I looked down again. I could meet his gaze.

"Heh, you won't hurt me, Rose. Believe me when I say that."

"Don't push your luck, I can be very dangerous." I didn't mean that to sound threatening at all. I was just stating a simple fact.

"Rose, what you've done is horrible, but it's nothing compared to the crimes the Joker has committed in the past. I'm sorry to say, but you were wrong to doubt him, Rose. Very wrong. The Joker…he's very…particular with his plans. They're very well planned out. He is incredibly intelligent."

A rage sparked inside my chest.

It only last for a moment, but it was long enough for me to jump from the bed and punch a hole in his wall while yelling out in frustration.

When I glanced at Damian, expecting him to be horrified, I found he was still calm. A little startled, but still very calm.

"You…" I said.

He pointed at himself. "Me…?"

I collapsed to my knees, fighting off more tears. I pulled at my hair, wanting to rip it all out. "God! What the hell is happening to me? Is this bipolar to the extreme? Damian, I'm scared! I've always had a temper, but I've never been like this before! One minute, I'm calm. The next, I'm punching holes in your wall! Sorry about that by the way. God, what if I kill again? I don't want to be a villain. Damian, please just take me to the police, I can't be trusted to be free to move as I wish…" Tears started rolling down my cheeks again.

"Rose…" Damian said my name. He dropped to his knees with me, embracing me tightly. "I'm not going to turn you in. I know you can control you're rage."

I up looked at him through my tears. "How? This just started happening to me recently. I don't know nearly as much about it as I would if it had been happening my whole life."

I felt him stiffen. I looked back up at him. He had a look on his face that was saying he was trying to make a difficult decision. What was that decision?

He finally decided.

"Perhaps…it's time you know a secret of mine…and my father's." He got up. "Stay in here, Rose. I'll come back for you in just a moment."

He left after that.

I wiped my eyes until they were bone dry. I must look like shit, I thought. I walked over to his mirror, checking myself.

Oh god.

My hair was a tangled rat's nest. "Jesus," I said, running my fingers through my hair, trying to fix it. I looked at my outfit. I was still in my jeans, which were now a little dirty and ripped. And my tank top was torn a little at the top, so it revealed a little more of my chest than I would normally feel comfortable with. Thank god I was wearing a bra.

Then I looked at my feet. My bare feet. "When did my shoes come off?" I asked myself. Either I had somehow lost them in the woods or Damian had removed them while I was asleep.

Damian came back, and seeing me at the mirror, he said, "Uh…need some privacy?"

I blushed a little. "No."

"Oh, well, here." He handed me a small bundle.

I took it, observing. A clean pair of jeans, a pair of grey converse, and…sweet! And a Mötley Crüe shirt! My face must have brightened up at the sight of the shirt, because Damian laughed. "How did you know they're my favorite band?" I asked.

He shrugged. "I guessed honestly. I sent Alfred out to get these for you."

"Thanks."

"No problem. I'll wait outside while you get ready, that is, unless you need assistance," he gave me that goofy grin again, reminding me the other day at Starbucks.

I cracked my knuckles in response.

He held up his hands, backing up to the door. "Just offering," he said. I threw one of the shoes at him just as he closed the door.

I laughed a little, retrieving the shoe.

As I got dressed, I couldn't help but wonder what Damian was going to tell me. Or show me, or whatever.

He had said it was a secret of both his and his dad's. I wondered how this secret could possibly help me.

Perhaps they had some sort of illegal cure for my…whatever you would call it.

_**You mean hysteria, Rose?**_

Oh god, not you again, I thought.

_Don't forget me too._

Is it just the two of you?

_Yes and no._

Wonderful. More bullshit to confuse me with. What are you, exactly?

_**We are you.**_

That doesn't make any sense.

_Sure it does. I am your light._

_**And I am your dark.**_

Wait, so you two…are the good and evil in me?

_Indeed._

God, I really am going insane.

_**No, you're just more intuned with yourself, Rose. The human mind is not just one being.**_

_It is divided into several parts. But the lightness and darkness are the two main parts of the human mind, the ones that control you the most._

_**However, there are a few humans in this world with a struggle inside them. The struggle of letting either the wonderful darkness, or the weak light control you.**_

Why can't I control myself?

I heard both voices laugh.

_Impossible. We are a part of your very essence, your very being. Without any of us, you will die. Anyone else would._

Why am I more intune than most other people?

I felt the sensation of shrugging.

_**It's just the way you were born, Rose. Don't fight the darkness. Just let me come to you. I am a much easier force to live by.**_

_Darkness lies, Rose. You said it yourself, you don't want to be a criminal. Allow me to guide you and I promise you will find happiness._

Who's in control right now?

_**Both of us, unfortunately.**_

Why is that a bad thing? Equality is good.

_We were born with you to struggle forever. There can never be peace between us unless you come to a choice._

_**A choice between darkness…and lightness.**_

I heard a knock at the door. "Rose? Are you coming?"

I looked at a clock. Damn, I had just been standing in the same spot for several minutes, I still wasn't even dressed yet.

"Yeah, I'm almost ready," I called, quickly taking my old, dirty clothes off.

**You're in love with him aren't you?**

I jumped.

Who the hell are you?

Laughter.

**I am the love inside of you, Rose.**

Great. There is more of you.

**Many more of us.**

Wonderful.


	10. Chapter 10

**I know it's been quite a while…but let's just say shit happened that kept me distracted from my writing. But anyway, now I should have a little more free time to write and relax. But I'll be honest, I'm not promising anything. I'm actually amazed I was able to focus enough to get this chapter done. Anyway, I'm rambling.**

**So I've been using different font styles and all that to represent the voices inside Rose's head. Here are their names and their fonts to help you remember them:**

_Light_

_**Dark**_

**Love**

***Strength***

_*Innocence*_

Jesus you would think this mansion was a fucking maze with all the twists and turns.

It would be easy for me to get lost in Wayne Manor. I have some of the worst sense of direction ever. Just ask my mom (scratch that. If you see her, kick her in the teeth for me).

"How the hell do you find your way around here, Damian?" I asked, following behind him.

He laughed. "I've lived here since I was born, Rose. Of course I would know it inside, out."

I shook my head, crossing my arms. "I was right. You are spoiled."

He turned his head to look back at me. "Why do you keep calling me that? Just because my dad is a billionaire, it doesn't mean I am too."

"But you were born to a billionaire family. Face it. You've got the spoiled gene."

"That's not even a real gene."

"It is now!" I snapped.

"You don't make any sense sometimes, Rose."

"But that's why I'm such a catch."

"Remind me why I've had a crush on you since the third grade?"

I blushed a little at the question. "B-because I'm fucking gorgeous. Or have you gone blind?"

He laughed again. I smiled in return.

"No way. You're still fucking gorgeous and always will be."

"Even when I'm worn down and weathered from the cigarettes?"

He crinkled his nose. "God, you're still smoking?"

"Yup! Well, not in the past few days…not since the Joker's fake funeral. Ugh, that was like five days ago. I'm itching for a cigarette _real_ bad. Maybe I've been acting so crazy 'cause of nicotine withdrawal." I joked, rolling my eyes.

"Yes, I'm sure that's exactly what it is, Rose. You just need a good burn and you'll be good to go!" He rolled his eyes.

I patted his head. "Now you're starting to get it!" He laughed again.

As we continued walking down the endless hallways, I was amazed. I still felt horrible for the crimes I had committed. But…I was actually feeling _happy_ at that moment. I was laughing and joking around, and with someone my own age! Not gambling with a bunch of middle aged men in the home of a former partner in crime of the Joker's. Or learning how to hot wire a car, or how to pick pocket someone (you would be amazed at what you could learn from some of the goons).

I was just happy. For the first time in days I felt the silent release that happiness brought.

_See how stable the light can be, Rose?_

You're still here?

_**We're all here, Rose.**_

**Every one of us.**

***All the time***

_*We are always with you*_

Wait, who are the last two of you?

***I am your strength***

_*And I am your innocence*_

How many more of you are there?!

**There are only me the darkness, light, love, strength, and innocence**

Wouldn't innocence be a part of light?

_*Not necessarily, Rose.*_

Uh…nice to meet you Innocence…Strength.

***You have always known us, Rose***

"Of course I have," I muttered under my breath.

"What was that?" Damian asked, confusion in his eyes.

I grinned, "Nothing. Just those damn voices again."

"Wait. What voices?"

Oh crap. That's right I didn't tell Damian about the voices. Oh god what do I say to him?!

_**Lie to him?**_

Darkness, go away!

_Impossible if we are a part of you, Rose._

**Just tell him you were making a joke.**

Perfect! Thank you, Love.

**Anytime, Rose. It is my duty.**

I started laughing. It wasn't quite like my maniacal laugh I had been so proud of days ago, it was a lighter laughter. But it still had that touch of hysteria to it I had always had before this whole mess started.

"I was kidding, Damian. Jeez, chill out. You should have seen your face!" I laughed some more.

He laughed too, not nervous at all.

**He believed you.**

No shit, Love! But thanks.

_**Wouldn't you usually have lied to him anyway?**_

**Darkness, she is in love with him.**

I am not!

I swear I felt Love shake its head from inside my head.

**Rose, I am the very essence of your intimacy. I can sense your level of care and love for someone. And, quite frankly, your levels for Damian are sky high.**

Darkness and Innocence laughed. Darkness laughed at me, while Innocence laughter was childlike, like it was found as romantic. Innocence was so, well, innocent.

Shut up! He's just my friend!

_**You keep blushing around him. Love, isn't that a sign she "has a thing for him", am I correct?**_

**A lot of times yes, but not necessarily.**

Are we really having this discussion?

_Indeed._

"Rose, we're here." I heard Damian's voice say, interrupting the conversation in my head.

I looked up, more aware of my surroundings.

We were standing in front of a plain enough looking door. It didn't look too special. In fact, it looked so mediocre around all the marble figures and pillars that were around us.

Damian stepped forward, knocking on the door. After a minute, the door opened, an old guy answering. "Young master Wayne," he greeted Damian. He spotted me, a slight frown forming on his face. "This is the girl I'm assuming?"

Damian nodded. "This is Rose Quinzel. Dad is still in there right?"

"Yes, Master Wayne has been waiting."

"Follow me, Rose." Damian told me.

Okay, I was really starting to get nervous. Just what was this secret of theirs anyway? Were they enemies of the Joker? Former villains perhaps? It seemed unlikely, but not impossible.

I followed Damian into what looked like an obnoxiously large office. There was a large wooden desk in the center, a gigantic window that took up almost the entire back wall, and a fireplace to the right. Next to that fireplace was an old grandfather clock that just seemed so out of place in such a fancy office.

I noticed a large oil painting hanging above the fireplace. It showed a middle aged couple, in each others' arms and smiling at one another. They actually looked pretty familiar, like they looked like someone I knew or I had seen them somewhere before. Maybe they were a part of Damian's family?

And the last thing, well, someone, I saw was the man sitting at the office, staring intently at me. He obviously was untrusting of me. Not surprising.

So this was the all mighty Bruce Wayne. The billionaire himself.

Damian looks a lot like him, I observed.

**He does bare a striking resemblance to his father.**

Go away! None of you talk to me for the next little while. I would like to try and act as sane as I possibly can, and mumbling to you guys is not going to help!

_**Wanting to impress your future in-law?**_

I'm going to pick Light over you.

_**You best not. You will be more satisfied with the dark, with hysteria, with-**_

"So you are the oh so famous Rosemary Quinzel," Bruce Wayne said to me.

I nodded, feeling a little nervous.

"Damian's told me a lot about you, Miss Quinzel. He won't ever stop talking about you." He smiled a little, glancing at his son, who was standing next to me.

An ever so slight blush crept on Damian's face. "I don't think that's why I've brought her here, Dad."

"Yes, yes. Miss Quinzel, among the many things I've heard about you, be they from Damian or the recent news stories, you seem quite the villain. Just like your father."

"But I actually regret it!" I blurted out. He raised an eyebrow, waiting for me to continue. "I-I," I stuttered, trying to find the words. "I don't want to be a villain like my father. I don't want to kill anyone else! I regret every single crime I've committed in the past few days! Things shouldn't be this way. Please, just take me to the police like I told Damian to do. You must have more sense than he does!" I took a deep breath. "I may regret my actions now, but honestly, I could snap at any moment. I'm completely insane and shouldn't be allowed to be free! Please just take me to the police. Please. I deserve to rot in prison…" I let my words drift off, looking down at my feet in shame.

I looked at him. He had a look of shock on his face.

"Well…" he began. "At least you're saner than your father. There just may be hope for you yet." He stood up, walking to the fireplace, gazing at the charred remains within it.

"What?!" I yelled. "Didn't you hear me? I could snap at any given moment! Whether I'm saner than the Joker or not doesn't matter! I could still regain my thirst for blood and disaster."

"If you feel such regret, why did you not go to the police before?"

"Because up until late last night, I had been…I don't know. Just more dangerous. Hell, I killed my own history teacher for the love of god! And I've murdered even more people. What do you think I should do if I shouldn't go to the police and turn myself in?!"

Rage started to build in my chest.

_**Gooooooood. Let me take over, Rose. Allow me to control you once more…**_

Darkness, I said to go away.

The rage vanished, gone in just a second. Wow. How did I do that?

_You're stronger than you think, Rose. You can withstand the temptress that is darkness._

_**But what about the bloodlust? The love for destruction? It's all so fun…is it not? You enjoyed the things you did Rose. Don't regret the darkness inside of you…**_

"Rose?" I heard Damian's voice ask.

I looked up from my internal conversation. "Uh, sorry. What?"

"We asked if you would be fine with staying here so we could keep an eye on you. You…may even come in handy."

I stared. "The hell is that supposed to mean?" I asked.

"Would you happen to have any information about your father and where he is?" Damian's father asked. I wasn't sure what to call him. Bruce? Mister Wayne?

**Dad?**, I heard Love suggest.

If I could, I would punch you.

_**Then you would be hurting yourself.**_

If one more of you distracts me I'm going to…! Well I'll think of something!

_**Very intimidating.**_

I decided to at least attempt to ignore anymore comments that they made. I thought about the question I had been asked. Did I know anything…? Yes! I did! I snapped my head up from thinking. "Last thing we had planned to do before I left, or was kicked out, was to stay with some dude they called Two Face. We had been staying with the Penguin before that."

"And it was on the way to Two Face's quarters that you left?" He asked.

I nodded. "Yep."

"What made you get kicked out by your own family?"

I rubbed the back of my neck. "I questioned them. Said they didn't deserve to be called villains. I honestly just wanted to blindly go on a bloody rampage like the idiot I am." He raised an eyebrow. "At the time, I didn't think that they might have been planning something without me. I was blinded by hysteria basically." I shrugged. "Anyway, all I heard of last was that they were going to see a villain they called Two Face."

"If we help you continue to keep a hold on your rage, would you be willing to help us?" He asked me suddenly.

My eyes widened. "How could I control it?"

"It is entirely possible that you just need medication. You might have a severe case of being bipolar."

"So what? I take a few magic pills and voila? I'm cured? What do you even want in return?"

His eyes grew very serious. "We want you to be a spy. See if you can rejoin them and contact us with information you obtain."

I bit my lip, unsure. "What would _you_ do with that information? Just turn it in to the police?"

He opened the grandfather clock suddenly, pulling on the cord inside. The wall holding the clock quickly slid open. My eyes widened again. "The fuck…?" I muttered, staring at what looked like a large elevator.

"Follow me." He motioned for me to join him, Damian following closely behind me.

Once we were all three inside, the doors slid shut and he were soon going down. Well, it felt more like the elevator cord had snapped and we were free falling. We were going to fast!

I instinctively grabbed onto Damian's arm, holding on tightly. He simply patted my shoulder comfortingly. "I need a cigarette!" I whined, aching for the soothing nicotine to spread through my system, calming me.

Damian rolled his eyes. "As long as you're with me, I'll make sure you stay away from those cancer sticks."

I was about to reply when the elevator stopped abruptly. The doors quickly slid open revealing…sweet baby Jesus…

A cave. They had a _cave_ that you could get to by pulling on a _grandfather clock_ from Bruce Wayne's _office_. But what really amazed me was what was _in_ the cave…

A huge computer was in the corner, ahead of me was what looked like…no fucking way. No, no, no, no, _No._

The Batmobile?

I looked around the large cave again. In the corner were case containing…Batman's suit? And Robin's? What the hell were the Waynes doing with all this stuff…? It finally dawned on me.

I looked at the gadgets in the cave, then to Damian and his father, who were looking at me oddly. Then repeated the process. My head snapping back and forth slowly.

My head hurt. _Really_ bad.

I put a hand to my forehead, feeling faint. "I _really_ need a cigarette right now…" I closed my eyes.

"Rose? Are you-" Damian started asking.

"Shut up. Give me a minute here…" I took in a _deep_ breath, releasing it slowly. I opened my eyes. "So…Batboy and his boywonder…wow. Who would have thought?" I said. I started laughing. It started low and hard to hear. But it was gradually getting louder, more hysterical with each passing second. I was close to tears from all my laughter!

"Um…are you okay?" Damian asked, giving me a questioning look. His father just looked disgusted at how similar my laugh was to my father's. Now I knew why!

"Oh this is _awesome_!" I yelled, an idiotic grin plastered on my face. I turned to Batman (that's right, I'm going to call him that now!) and gave him my best puppy dog eyes. Oh please, please, please let me see your utility belt! I have always wanted to get my hands on those gadgets!" He just looked confused. "Oh come on, Batboy! I promise to be good!" I turned to Damian, switching from cute puppy eyes, to batting my eyelashes. "What about you, Damian?"

He groaned. "Oh god, don't even start."

"I just wanna play with the toys!"

"They aren't toys, Rose." He told me seriously.

I laughed at that. "Sure they are! Now gimme! Where are they?" I ran around the cave, looking for them.

Batman turned to his son. "Is she always like this, or is she going insane again?"

Damian blinked, watching me run around the cave. "This is surprisingly normal for her. She's always been the weird one at school. But she can be very serious and cold when she needs to be…Rose, don't touch that!" He came running up to me.

As Damian tried to keep me from randomly pressing buttons on the computer, his father was staring at us. I could distantly hear him say, "She truly is her father's child…"

**Question: should I give the parts of Rose's mind sexes? Like for example (this is not definite btw) Innocence would be a girl, Darkness a guy, etc.? Or should they just stay genderless? Leave a review to let me know please!**

**RandomFact!: If you yelled for 8 years, 7 months and 6 days, you would have produced enough sound energy to heat one cup of coffee.**

**I think I'll add random facts at the end of my chapters. I've been a little obsessed with them lately. Idk if I'll keep it up, but we'll see! Anyway, review if ya feel like taking two seconds out of your life to type just a couple words in the little box below.**


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